In His Clutches

Tomorrow morning my mom was leaving for Paris with Jack, Eric’s dad. Despite how badly I didn’t want them to go.

And so far, no amount of pleading for my mom to change her mind and suggesting that a couple years from now might prove a more ideal time to visit, had worked.

Thusly, I was currently, considering holding onto her ankle like a small child and begging her not to leave me alone with the devil. I could hang onto her as she took steps toward the door. Having to drag me like a small child being left at a daycare.

I don’t want them to go.

Not now.

My thoughts were distracted from my misery by a footstep in the hall.

“Allie Kat?” My bedroom door cracked, and Eric poked his head into the dark room.

As if conjured by me thinking of Satan.

“Don’t call me that.” I snarled. “What?”

Sounding even crabbier than I felt.

“Bit early for bed, isn’t it?” He asked.

Not if I’d rather be asleep then dealing with my current issues.