February 1, 2020 It’s About Time… It’s officially been seven months since I moved back home from Taiwan, and I gotta say, things are settled. They have been settled for quite some time, but I wish it would have happened sooner, because I had many plans for my books to be released this year. That’s right, books.
November 16, 2019 Cleaning House “Ready?” I nodded over to Thomas, who held his wand tightly in his hand. His dark eyes shifted to the rattling door. I gulped. “On three.” “One,” we both paused, hearing more intense rattling, “two…three.” SLAM! One flick of our wrists and the lock turned. The door burst open, slamming open against the wall. Pages upon pages flew out of the attic, causing both of us to hold our hands up. Books toppled to the hallway floor from the stairs, reaching our toes and growing into a large pile.
October 19, 2019 Breaking Curfew Later, we all retreated to the dormitory. After spending just a few days there, the hallway of beds had become somewhere of a new home to us. I had left clothes all over the floor, like Mom hated for me to do. The twins had manifested posters of their favorites bands and plastered them to the walls, much to their parents’ dismay, whom had left on another operation right after dinner. Thomas, beside me, had changed the white coloring of the old bed sheets to an evergreen, while his sister opted for a light purple color. This was all fine and dandy, as Grandma had told us, as long as we reversed them before we returned home.
October 12, 2019 Pencils, Snakes, Perdita, Oh My! Compared to our house, the Nigari house was like traveling a century into the future. All you could see when you came up to their front door was glass, covering nearly every inch of the exterior. Their walls were as plain, except for the perfectly measured picture frames that showed off their family: Kyle, Nikita, Thomas, and his older sister, Lula. Everything about their house screamed the Jetsons to me.
March 10, 2019 The Tragedy at Kingston Manor If it wasn’t for the full moon overhead, all of Boyston Lane would have been pitch black. A dim light lit some of the walkway, just enough so that anyone could see how dead quiet the neighborhood was, not that it was bustling normally. Boyston Lane was one of the safest parts of Oak Park, thus no one batted an eye. August 14th was just any other ordinary evening for the residents.
