The meeting took place on a Friday I believe, the following day was Saturday. Uncle Sidney at this point seemed content to have me frolic around the house in a pair of skinny jeans and a t- shirt. He rarely said much to me anymore. Though from time to time I saw him peering out the window of his study or pacing up and down the concrete driveway. I was starting to see a different side of him. It was like a change had taken place deep inside of him. I knew when he discovered me wearing a old hand-me down dress, he had tried to scare me straight, the Bible having been his weapon of choice.

A permission slip is a problem.

Opening his eyes, Alexander gingerly sat up on the sofa. His back didn't hurt nearly as much as it had, but he still winced as his bruised and battered muscles let him know they weren't healed. He saw the teen named Dwayne, asleep in a large armchair, his head drooped forward. Muffled snoring came through the wall, that was probably Samantha. He felt Dela deeply asleep in his head.

Breakfast that morning was pan fried turkey bacon, fried eggs sunny side up, and a toasted English muffin with a bit of butter on it to make it palatable. The meal was served with a cup of coffee, strong, black coffee, unsweetened with cream, sugar or milk. I call it dishwater in a cup. My Aunt Cat said however that this was a breakfast befitting a 'Woman' of my class and breeding and that a 'Southern Belle' should always be mindful of the size of her waist. 

She shook her head and grinned at me. “Do you get hate mail?” she asked looking serious.

A gong woke us up for our first breakfast at Doom Valley Prep School. Today was the day we'd meet the older students, see the school and pick our classes, I was dreading every minute of it. While Ella stepped into her closet and came out wearing the blue school dress, I came out in my padded armour. After seeing how bad the freshmen were, I didn't want to even think what the older students were like and had to be ready for anything.

Keir pored over a paper that explained what little was known about the demons biology. Mostly it told how to kill the various types. A large pile of similar papers sat on the small desk of his room. He had sent his living maids to their small ensuite sleeping quarters, leaving only Hanina silently massaging his shoulders, as company.

The Hypnosis Game Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown

When I was around eight years old, a friend (who was sorta adopted as a cousin) stayed with my family for a few weeks over the summer. We played a lot of games while we she was there, but my favorite was the one where we'd pretend to hypnotize each other.

This is the story of what happened when it was my turn to be hypnotized.

=-=-=

"Hi, my daughter needs to be fitted for a new bra."

Dinner that night was tenderized venison steaks, that had been hand battered and fried in a heavy iron skillet till golden brown. My Aunt cooked a good many of them, the sides included home-made mashed potatoes made from scratch brown gravy, collard greens seasoned with bits of bacon and of course the staple at many southern tables. Cornbread. The beverage of choice of course was sweet tea for me, my aunt had a glass of red wine and my uncle Sidney had a brown bottle of Yuengling, this was really his third bottle of the evening.

Just a Lark

It was all just a lark, a little harmless fun. I mean, what could go wrong?

[With thanks to Courtney for another great caption!]

Life really takes some strange turns and moving to New Mexico did it for me. I hated my new life. At my old home in Idaho, I had a couple of friends, and we played games and hung out, but not in the new place. It sucked.

Keir, Von and Hanina were escorted through the halls of the keep at the center of Desolate Fort to the main hall. The escort watched them warily, particularly the ghostly maid who floated silently behind Keir. The necromancer wondered how the dignitaries would act when they met. So far he'd been greeted mostly by fear and wariness, he could understand why they felt like that, but it was getting annoying.

“Shall I introduce you as Keir or Keira?” Von asked.

I returned a few moments later holding the old, leather Bible. It was the family Bible, the one that recorded all the births and deaths in the family. According to family lore, the Bible had been in the family for well over a hundred years. My Aunt Cat who was in the kitchen, pointed with fingers toward my uncle's office. I nodded my head and started to make my way to the office. The door was locked so I gently knocked. A few seconds later, I heard a crossed voice from behind the door call out.

“Wow,” she said. “The boys are going to be watching that show.”