Delilah Dutton


I reached toward the door with my right hand and knocked lightly. I waited for a few seconds, looking at the door that needed some paint. No one came to the door, so I knocked a little louder. But there was still no answer. I raised my arm to knock a third time, but before I could the door opened slowly. Two pale blue eyes peeked out and grew wide with alarm. Then suddenly Mrs. Dutton threw the door wide open and grabbed my arm, yanking me inside her house and then slamming the door behind me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked sternly. “You shouldn’t be here. You have to go!”

I just stood there, staring at her, unable to speak. I was so stunned, and too afraid to even move. I couldn’t believe that she grabbed me like that, and that I was inside her house. I didn’t want to be. I just wanted to ask her why she said those things. What was I thinking? What is she going to do to me?

“What do you want?” she asked, angrily.

“I…I want to know why, you said…”

“You have to ask the keeper,” she interrupted, and then she glared at me.


“The keeper, you have to ask the keeper,”

“What are you talking about?” I frowned. “Who is the keeper?” Did this woman ever make any sense? Maybe she really is crazy.



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