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Book online «Turn of Fate - Juniper Lee (ereader with android .txt) 📗». Author Juniper Lee



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low income, single parent families with only 2 kids, like mine. That, along with the fact that my sister is almost nine and I have a creepy girl in my house, goes beyond confirming my fears.
My eyes begin to swim with tears. How can I stop her? I don't get the time to think about that, though, because Kelly walks up behind me.
I don't turn to see her, but I know she's there. The hair on the back of my neck prickles and I shiver. I can't think straight. I know I shouldn't be giving away my fear or suspicion, yet I can't control myself.
"Isn't that just horrible?" Her voice is like ice and even though I can't see her, I know her eyes look the same.
"Yes, it is," I spit through gritted teeth. My voice is surprisingly even. "I've just been wondering how someone could be heartless enough to rip children away from their homes and their lives."
She pauses before responding, "I've often wondered the same thing."
She doesn't speak again, but I stay glued to my seat. When I finally turn around, she's still standing behind me. Her expression chills me to the bone. With a sickening smile she opens the door and says, "But there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening." Then she walks into the night, leaving me alone with my fear again.
For more than a few moments, I just stare at the space where Kelly was. I just stare and let tears slip from my eyes and hit the floor. Before the silence and fear can crush me though, I force myself to take a deep breathe. Then, I collect my thoughts.
"Fear is paralyzing," I remind myself. "What can I conquer fear with?"
I take another deep breath and shut down the computer. I stand up and walk to the mirror in the hall. For the first time in a long time, I really look at myself. I do not like the sight.
"Anger," I hear myself answer. I close my eyes. "Anger is motivation. Anger overpowers fear. Anger is my new best friend."
My eyebrows pull together as I picture Kelly's cold, evil eyes. When I open my own and peer at my reflection, I'm glad to see that I can make my eyes just as icy as hers. Then I remember Joy and the ice fades. I do not want to be Kelly. My motivation is love, behind the anger. My eyes are ice, but hers have a firing spark of madness that I will never have. I give my mirror self an assuring nod and walk down the hall. Instead of walking into my room, I step through the open door into Joy's. Her breaths are even and light. I smile down at her and kiss her forehead.
"I love you," I whisper to her.
"I love you too," she answers by reflex, even though she is asleep.

~~~~~


"Are you okay?" Mom asks, then adds, "And where's Kelly?" She adds the last part with the same distracted tone as the first, so I leave my answers short and simple.
"I'm fine. Kelly left early this morning." My voice is even and I nonchalantly continue cooking breakfast. If only she knew.
Joy comes out after mom leaves. We begin to eat breakfast in silence. I try to keep my mind off last night, but my expression falters when I look into Joy's eyes. Her bright smile and big blue eyes remind me of everything she's done for me and everything I've done for her. Her happiness and jokes have rescued me from lonely monotony and her love has made me the happiest sister alive. What would I do without her?
"What's wrong, Chase?" her sweet voice pulls me from my sentimental thoughts.
"Nothing honey, I'm okay," I lie. I wipe the single tear from my eye and take the plates to the kitchen.
When I get back to the table, Joy is standing on a chair.
"Come here," she demands with a smile. I obey. First she gives me a hug. Then she clips a small pink heart barrette in my hair. "I hope your day gets better!" she says, jumping down from the chair.
As she runs out the door to the bus, I try to believe that my day will get better. I even smile as I get into my car. But when I arrive at school, my mind crumbles back into anxious thoughts.
The teacher's voice drones on while the clock ticks, moving much slower than it should. Kelly is no where in sight, which just reassures me that she's planning something, but Joy is safe in school for now. My fear turns into full on anxiety as the day wears on, mixing with my anger to create a boiling cauldron of feelings and ideas.
I clear my mind as much as possible to formulate a plan. Kelly is going to try to take my sister, most likely tonight. It's been almost a week since her last kidnapping and the last four happened only a week apart. Before she can even get to my sister, we need to be long gone. I think for a long time before I finally decide on a plan that I know can't fail.
When we get home, Joy heads straight to her room and I put my plan into action. I pack three bags, one for my stuff, one for Joy's, and one for food and first aid. Those bags get stored in my trunk. Then I begin my letter to mom, explaining what I'm doing and why. She's working late tonight and won't be home until we're gone. I set my alarm clock for 10:00, because that's when we'll leave. Finally, I'm ready to tell Joy.
I don't tell her the truth, of course. She would be extremely freaked out and might not be able to handle it if I told her everything. Instead, I lie to her and tell her that were going on a road trip to visit our family.
"Sounds good. Anything to get me out of school for a few days," is her only response. She just goes back to painting her nails.
My mind races. The closer it gets to night time, the more anxiety builds in me. As always on Wednesday night, Joy requests chocolate milk with dinner. It’s sort of a family ritual.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but I can’t find the cocoa container in the cupboard. I fumble through everything, feeling mentally exhausted by the time I finally find it. She chugs her chocolate milk, but I’m too distracted to drink mine. Joy grabs mine and drinks it too. Then, we head to our rooms.
“I won’t wake you up, okay? I’ll just carry you to the car,” I tell her as I pull the covers over her and tuck her in. She just smiles and yawns, practically already asleep.
I, of course, can’t sleep. I keep imagining Kelly in the house. I stare out the window and I think I see her cold, blue eyes staring in at me.
Time drags at a pace a slug could easily match. I force myself to breathe evenly. Eventually, I zone out. When the alarm finally rings, I’m calmer than I should be. I fold Joy in my arms, shut off the lights, and walk outside.
I don’t have a problem driving at night, even though I’m unfamiliar with the roads. There is nothing around us for miles, the city far behind us, and the next one far ahead. Joy sleeps soundly as I sing along to the radio.
Suddenly, the radio turns to static and shuts off. The dashboard lights flicker and the digital clock disappears. The check engine light begins to flash its red-orange light.
“I should’ve had the car checked before I left,” I mumble to myself.
With nothing to distract me, my anxiety and fear resurface. I catch myself looking in the rearview mirror constantly.
At first, I’m fine. But then, I see her. A pair of headlights roars down the road, gaining on us every second. I know its Kelly. Who else would follow us out this far?
“No,” I whisper. Then louder, “You aren’t going to get her.”
In the distance I see a small group of lights. The closer I get, I can see a brightly lit Ferris wheel rise in the darkness. A carnival is just ahead of us.
I glance back. The car behind me is getting closer. I can almost see Kelly’s cold eyes and menacing smile. I have to do something before she rear ends me and gets to Joy.
I press the gas to the floor and speed around the next turn. I pass the exit for the carnival, shut my headlight off, and make a deadly U-turn toward the carnival again. I see Kelly speed past, unable to follow my erratic driving.
Knowing she will catch up soon enough, I park quickly, as close to the entrance as possible. I grab both of my pocket knives and stash them in different places on my person.
"Joy, honey, wake up," I say, gently but urgently. She doesn't respond. I shake her gently. Still nothing.
I see a pair of headlights turn onto the dirt road toward the carnival. Adrenaline and anxiety both pump through me rapidly. Why won't Joy wake up?
Kelly's car makes the final turn. I have no choice. I pull Joy from the car and carry her toward the entrance. She is heavy, but I don't notice. I just push myself forward.
I know this is an all night carnival, but I haven't actually been here before. The eerie lights cast dark shadows on the few people that are here. I was expecting to be protected by a crowd. I guess not.
I scan for a ride that will give me a view of the whole carnival and also give me time to work on a plan. The first ride that meets the description is called "Sky View".
"Just what we need," I say aloud, as I place Joy into the ride. The carny doesn't seem to care that I don't have tickets. He just lets the ride sweep us up and away.
My heart matches pace with the chugging of the old ride. I have to block out both to think clearly.
"Joy," I plead, once again shaking her. She still doesn't respond. Her eyes remain closed. She's breathing, so she's not dead, but even that doesn't comfort me. Why won't she wake up?
Kelly strides through the entrance. I can't see her expression, but her body language conveys frustration. She looks like a black shadow, with lights shining behind her back. At least she hasn't spotted us yet.
From my vantage point, I notice a tent with a red cross on the front. Maybe the first aid will be able to figure out if Joy's okay and why she's as unwakeable as Sleeping Beauty.
I plan a path from the ride's exit to the first aid tent. I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. It doesn't work.
As the ride comes to an end, I fold Joy in my arms and follow my pre-planned route. Behind me I hear a commotion, but I don't look back. I ignore it; remind myself to focus, and push forward. My heart drops when I step inside the tent.
"Hello," Kelly states plainly. Here even voice conveys no emotion, but her lips pull into a wicked grin. "I'd like you to hand over my sister please."
"What?" I demand. "Your sister?"
Kelly takes a step forward. "Yes. My sister."
That's when I notice the nurse. Her eyes are glued to the scene we're creating. She has a phone in her hand; her fingers poised to dial 911. I look

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