Madness neatly folded into softly bundled mayhem pressed firmly underneath that staircase. Those stairs pulled me upward in my formative years. The little girl at the top of the steps whispered in her eyes a preternatural glow “I'll bet you can't make it so fast... come!” she said slowly her teeth, sharp and gleaming every word forming a slight hiss. I ran in breathless, horrible fantasy. Dancing eyes, her head slowly turning I wasn't questioning pretending life was a normal curve. Then one day older, she appeared husky-voiced teeth now brandishing razor sharp fangs “I'll bet your life you can't make these stairs!” that voice now gravelly and deep. I looked amazed at her metamorphosis into demon daughter of a discontent house.
SMM 2017 Halloween Writing Contest Entry