”“Huh,” Coree stuttered.“You actin’ strange. Ma is ma, yo!”“You right. She said you can talk to her. Go do it.”“Maybe I will.”“C...n you believe it though.”“I’m not really thinkin’ ‘bout it,” confessed the eleven year-old Jeramiah. “We ain’t never had a life this good.”“You right, li’l bruh. I guess I need to talk to her.”Rochelle was reading a murder mystery. She was reclined on the chaise lounge across the room from her bed. As she turned a page, she heard a knock at the door.“Who’s there,” the. Dark, long black hair cascaded down a red trench coat. Glowing yellow eyes looked at me. “Hello, Bree,” the beautiful vixen spoke. “Come sit at my knee.” Just as a scared person would do, I gave her what she wanted. I let the thought cross my mind of whether to scream, run or go for my phone. Just as I expected, she read my thoughts. “You don’t want to do that. Come.” “Who are you? And why are you in my house?” I asked, making my voice sound stupid. “Someone you don’t want to piss off.” Very. More

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