Which Witch Switch - Julie Steimle (book series for 10 year olds .txt) 📗

again all by myself.”

But we didn’t care. The poster wasn’t actually damaged, though our corner had a couple damp spots.

Kyle came back with the mop then cleaned up the mess himself. He then put the cap back onto the bottle of soda and set it next to Jane, casting Gwenneth a chiding look.

I plucked up the liter bottle, took the cap right off again, and poured myself a cup from the remaining soda. It was about half full by then. As I drank, Jane slipped closer to me and asked the question once more. “What do you think they want you for?”

I shrugged then opened up the liter bottle again to pour myself another cup. I was feeling extremely thirsty. “I don’t know exactly. But I can guess.”

“Then guess,” Jane said as I downed that cupful.

Pouring myself yet another cup, I took a breath and whispered. “I don’t think it is a good idea to say it here with everybody else listening in. That’s why Gwenneth knocked over the soda.”

As I said that, Gwenneth set her hand to her head. Both of us looked at her, wondering what was wrong. Martha actually leaned over and asked.

Gwenneth shook her head. I heard her mumble something though it was not clear. The next minute, Gwenneth fainted.

Everyone jumped up.

“What happened? Is she all right?”

“I don’t know.”

“She just passed out!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Is the nurse still here?”

“She should be.”

Jane blinked, crouching down and staring a Gwenneth as Kyle ran off to get the school nurse. But then I saw Jane close her eyes once more, trying to keep a blur out of them. She then set a hand to her forehead, swaying on her feet. Then she dropped backwards. I caught her.

“Jane!”

Everyone turned with a stare at Jane then me.

I wobbled.

It was strange. I could hardly see straight. Grabbing my head to clear it, I promptly fell backward on my rump. I blinked, my body quickly losing its strength. My shoulders dropped, my head felt heavy, and it was as if time had slowed down because everything around me went in slow motion as my body fell backward and smacked against the gym floor. And though my vision blacked out, I could hear the distant echo of feet thumping on the floor all around me. Somewhere in the distance a pair of clogs clacked against the wood at an even stride.

In Delerium

 

don’t think I was aware of where I was exactly. I only recall the strange murmur of words over me and the rocking motion of a car. Still flat on my back, my knees were bent and my neck kinked to the side, but for some reason I could not move. And though the murmur spoken over me grew louder, I still could not make out what was being said. All I knew was that I felt ill, breathing in a smoky something that irritated my sinuses and made me want to cough.

“I think she’s coming to,” a woman said.

“Not yet. She can’t be conscious yet,” Danna’s voice said with a bite of impatience.

“Then knock her out again,” replied the irritated businesswoman whose tone was that of the authority in the group. “She obviously didn’t drink enough to keep her out.”

“Those greedy b—” Danna swore in a way that would have made my mother slap her. “She was supposed to drink it first. I made it for her, not them.”

“I told you to prepare for interference. You knew she wasn’t going to be alone,” the businesswoman snapped. “Now put her out before she wakes up more.”

Something sharp and thin stabbed me in the shoulder. Though I could hardly move, I flinched, clenching my teeth.

“I just don’t get it,” murmured the voice I did not know. “How did she end up with those people? A vimp is supposed to be a savage monster. This one is like…like….”

“Like a normal teenager,” Danna said.

Already my muscles relaxed again. The sounds I was hearing went out of tune once more though I did detect a strange pattern to some of their heartbeats, their imps shouting for them to do odd things, like draw on my face while I was asleep. If they had done it, I don’t think I would have been able to lift a finger to stop them.

“That will just make it all the more easy for her to….”

Breakfast with Aunt Margaret

 

I woke with a jolt.

Sitting up, a shiver ran through me. I blinked my eyes at the room that I was in, taking in the pink and white rosebud curtains with lace, the fancy Victorian vanity next to the window, the pine wardrobe closet standing near the end of the bed and then at the night stand with the frilly pink lamp on it. I reached up and rubbed my eyes to make sure I was really seeing it. All of it was still there when I opened my eyes again.

Looking around me once more, I peered at the frilly pink bedcovers and pillow I was resting on. Immediately I climbed off the bed and staggered back, wondering what was going on. I didn’t know that room at all.

Turning around, I searched for a door. The first one I found took me into a bathroom. All the fixtures were old yellowing porcelain. The shower and tub were on legs with a pink frilly curtain drawn to one side and tied off with a waterproof rope. I looked up to the mirror, but of course I could not see my reflection. It had been gone since last Halloween.

Getting off the fuzzy bath mat, I looked at my bare feet. Then down at myself, peering at the silky pink negligee I was wearing.

Yelping, I jumped back to cover my chest. Whipping my eyes around the room, I searched for a robe or a big towel. A fuzzy pink bathrobe hung on the back of the door so I grabbed it, jamming my arms through the sleeves and wrapping it tight around me. From there I stomped back into the room to look for my clothes. I was sure I was wearing a normal tee shirt and jeans just a moment ago.

Pulling out the drawers I discovered within the bed’s base, I dug through the contents. What I found was absolutely uncomfortable. Thongs and those leopard print bras that desperate girls wore. I slammed that drawer shut then searched through the other drawers. I found skimpy tees, a few tank tops and a number of sheer tops that required tank tops. Shoving that one shut I then opened the other one to find really tight looking jeans and skirts. I kicked that drawer closed then stomped to the other door.

Grabbing the knob, I turned it but then halted, wondering what I actually intended to do. Part of me wanted to shout for my old clothes from whoever took them. The other part of me wanted to sneak out through the walls and find the nearest pay phone. Though, when I thought about that, I wondered whom I would call. My mind was a blank. Nobody’s name or number came to mind. My stomach lurched. And that lurch reminded me that I was hungry, extremely hungry.

I opened the door.

Finding myself on a carpeted but narrow hallway, I looked to the right where I discovered the beginning of some stairs. Stairs meant a way out. It also meant perhaps finding an explanation. I drew in a breath and I took a step in that direction hoping that I didn’t have to run away in just a bathrobe and a skimpy chemise.

It was strange, descending those stairs. They creaked like any set of stairs in any old house, but it reminded me of a house I knew—though for some reason I could not recall whose or where. In my mind’s eye I imagined an elderly woman that liked to wear high heels who examined me with a disdainful eye as if I were blight on her family. And when I reached the bottom of the stairs, coming to a room with similar feminine decor, I set my hand to my head and leaned on the banister post.

“Ah, good morning!”

I popped my head up and blinked. Before me stood a kind-looking middle-aged woman with cheery blue eyes that sparkled like forget-me-nots. She wore a kitchen apron with an apple print on it. A potholder was on her right hand.

“How did you sleep?” she asked me.

Taking another step down, I turned my head to the side to see her better. One thing was for sure. She was familiar, but I didn’t know her. “I don’t remember sleeping. Just waking.”

The woman chuckled, ducking her chin. “Yes, I’d say you are fairly jet lagged.”

“Jet lagged?” I took another step towards her.

She nodded. “Of course. You arrived yesterday completely out of it. You took motion sickness medicine, and it had strong side-effects. Knocked you right out.”

I didn’t even remember getting on a plane. I put my hand to my forehead again and pressed the space between my eyes.

“I guess you are still feeling the effects,” she said. Then she turned back towards the doorway she had come from. “Come on and have some breakfast.”

My stomach gurgled, agreeing with her. And my feet pretty much walked on their own, taking me (as I was trying to gather my bearings), right through the kitchen door to a small breakfast nook where I could smell the wonderful aromas of fried eggs, sausage, toast and bacon.

“Oh, that’s nice.” I murmured as I sat down.

She went back to the range and took up a spatula, flipping a pancake over. “What would you like to eat?”

“This looks good,” I said, and I lowered my hand from my face to peer down at all my options. There was a bowl of freshly chopped mixed melons next to a quart of what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice. It was like a holiday. All my favorite breakfast foods were there.

The woman chuckled as she scooped up the pancakes that were done and set them on a plate. That, she put onto the table.

As I picked up my fork and knife, selecting a piece of toast, some of the melon salad, a sausage link and an egg, I started to realize that this woman had prepared food for more than just two people. Blinking at it, then up at her who puttered away as one thrilled I had come to visit, I almost asked the question that sprang right to my lips.

“Good morning!” A svelte blonde