Sharing an Excerpt of My Crazy Ballerina WIP

It’s post #7 for Women’s Horror Month. Man, time goes fast! Sticking to my promise of showing more vulnerability as a writer, I’ll be sharing an excerpt from my Crazy Ballerina suspense work-in-progress.

If you’ve read any of my books, you know a running theme I love writing about is obsession. My pre-teen Loren character is no exception. After her brother Franco dies, she terrorizes her younger sister Kina. The Carey family will never be the same…

Here’s my excerpt:

In the wee hours of the morning, my feet slid across the carpet in the hallway. I ignored the family portraits hung up on the wall. I walked past Mom and Dad’s master bedroom. There was no point going in because no one was there. They were both sitting on my bedroom floor, probably asleep by now. All night they had taken turns watching over me to make sure I didn’t fall asleep. I made it to the bathroom and turned on the light, then I left a small crack in the door. I did that in case Mom or Dad peeked their head into the hallway. My cover story of having to use the bathroom would sound more real if they saw the light on.

I crept to Angela’s closed bedroom door and opened it. Her Winnie the Pooh alarm clock was the only light in her room. She was snoring lightly. I took a deep breath and placed my hand over my heart. My beautiful little sister. I’d have to keep telling her stories of Franco, so she wouldn’t forget him. I slowly shut her door because I didn’t want to disrupt her peaceful sleep.

I made my way to Kina’s closed bedroom door and balled my hands into a fist. If I was a cartoon character, gray smoke would be coming out of my ears. If Kina had a heart, she would be crying to herself in bed. Or she would be praying near the window.  When I turned the knob, I wasn’t surprised the little brat was sound asleep. Her lamp on her nightstand was still on. Her iPad lay near her pillow.

I folded my arms across my chest, then I stomped to her bed. I wasn’t afraid of Kina, and it was time to prove that to her. If anything, she should be afraid of me. You see, Kina was sneaky. Never in a million years would I have thought she could be so ugly inside. She had that naïve personality that showed innocence. She was probably laughing at how things worked out with Franco. She was probably plotting what to do next. The thing with sneaky people was that they worked on schedules, and sometimes they manipulated other people to do the dirty work for them.

 If there was a war between us, I’d win, no doubt. I wasn’t sneaky. I didn’t plan first. I acted on impulse. And when I think she’s not worth breathing anymore, then I’ll end her life and not even give it a second thought. She could end up like worm food, what she resorted my brother, my best friend to become.

I leaned down. Her breathing tickled my nose hairs. If I didn’t know any better, Kina was smirking. She definitely looked evil.  I whispered, “Kina.” My voice sounded like acid. I wanted to scare the bejeezus out of her.

She yawned and stretched, then slowly opened her eyes. “Loren, I’m happy you’re home. I love you.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

“I hate you.”

Sadness and hurt reached her eyes. What an actress.“Why?” She frowned.

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Please tell me.” She hugged her teddy bear, probably trying to squeeze it to death with the black buttons popping off and the cotton oozing from the insides. Franco had given her that Build-A-Bear a few years ago. How dare she hold on to it. It was probably her trophy. Watching Law and Order: SVU I knew  killers liked their trophies to always remember their murders.

I snatched the bear out of the little brat’s hands and threw it on the floor. Kina leaped up. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide. I leaned even closer to her. “You killed Franco, you little bitch.”

Kina looked like she was gutted. She began crying.

What a joke? She couldn’t fool me any longer.

I pushed her down, so she would lay down again. “If you tell Mom or Dad about our conversation, I’ll hurt you.”

I left her bedroom and let her “cry” alone.

******

What do you think?

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

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