Scaredy Cat Read Online Free PDF Page A

pad on the armrest of her favorite chair had fallen off during the move. Perhaps that was the issue. She got up, found a towel and some tape, and made a nice soft cushion for her arm. She sat back down, tested it, then set her fingers to the keyboard, but they refused to move. The demented well from which she drew seemed to be devoid of restless spirits.
    “Something…write something. What did you see today?”
    Blake’s fingers began to move.
    Cypress Glade was a quiet place. Children played ball in front yards, and lovers strolled hand in hand down sidewalks broken by the roots of ancient oaks. The late afternoon sun streamed through the boughs, spotlighting homes built at the turn of the century. One could be easily beguiled by quaint storefronts, pleasant smiles, and kind hellos. It was the kind of place that made…
    Blake bit her lip. Names were the bane of her existence. As she pondered one that would fit her character, precious time slipped by, and along with it the story she longed to tell.
    It was the kind of place that made Parsnip Whothefuckever want to let down her guard and forget the terrors that came with the night.
    “And what terror is that, Blake? Dreams, memories, ghosts, perhaps the census form you refuse to fill out?”
    Blake laid her head against the back of the chair and groaned. There was a time that stories played out in her mind with such vivid detail that she could barely type fast enough to record what she saw. Those were the days and nights she skipped food and sleep and nearly made herself sick. Her back and neck would ache from sitting for long periods of time. It was agony, but she missed it terribly. The muscles in her stomach constricted as she wondered if her own story was going to have an unhappy ending.
    She got up and began to pace, a perfect evening wasted. Nocturnal for years, she spent her nights in front of the computer, her days sleeping. Lately, her evenings were spent watching too much TV and digging in the refrigerator. She leaned against the wall and stared angrily at her computer as though it was to blame for her block. It was new because in a fit of frustration and rage, she’d thrown the last one down the stairs of her apartment building, then cried as she picked up the pieces.
    She sat down again, her fingers poised above the keyboard as a line went through her brain about a dark and stormy night. “Oh, God, I almost plagiarized Snoopy. Think! Think!”
    Her hands dropped to the keys, eyes closed as she recalled something she started long ago.
    Salty air whipped Carrot’s long brown hair and momentarily obscured her vision of the dark waters below. The wineglass slipped from her hand and quickly fell several stories before making a silent splash. No one noticed. She wondered then as she had the night before if anyone would take note of a body’s silent descent. Dawn was approaching; soon the ship would be in port. Excursions had been planned for the last stop. Afterward, they’d be two days at sea, and Carrot would return to a life she could no longer live.
    Celery lay snoring on the bed a mere few feet away. One hand draped across his forehead, the other twitched slightly as it lay on his chest. Those hands at one time had brought pleasure, and Carrot had seen them bring death. They were clean, but as Carrot closed her eyes, she saw them stained with blood. She trembled at the memory of seeing for the first time the coldness in his eyes while he watched dispassionately as life slipped away from his victim. Disguised as a man and a husband, a monster slumbered peacefully as Carrot pondered her escape.
    She’d have to be fast. Carrot could not afford to climb over the railing and debate. Someone would surely see her. No, she’d have to be committed and lunge. Water from that height would no doubt feel like cement, and if the fall didn’t kill her, then being sucked beneath the ship surely would. Timing was essential. The mighty engines would slow soon, a sliver of