WEN: 096A33
Exhibitor Name: Daniella Smith
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
My skin crawled at Marie’s words. “I’m not sure. I only saw her for a brief second, trying to leave Wyatt’s house.” “Did she make it out?”
“No, she only made it as far as the porch before Wyatt made her go back in.”
“Jesus. Did he use force?”
I recalled the sight of Wyatt pulling the woman back into his house by her arm. “Sure looked like it. Once he did, he sat in front of the door; I assume to keep her in.” I looked out the window again, discomfort crawling up my body like a colony of ants. I waited for Marie to respond while observing the way the afternoon sun dripped off tree leaves. When Marie finally did say something, her voice was laden with agitation. “I see.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
Her mouth opened and closed, and her dirty blonde curls swayed as she shook her head. “Listen, hon. I-” Marie looked anywhere but at me- “I don’t want to meddle in any of Artie’s affairs. He’s the kind of person whose history is not worth investigating.”
“What?”
“What I’m saying is that you shouldn’t either-” she held up a hand, interrupting my protest- “because you’re a good kid. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I was getting frustrated now. Why, I didn’t know, but I felt compelled to help the woman concealed within Wyatt’s walls.
“But, who knows how long she’s been there!” I exclaimed, rather unexpectedly. Marie apparently thought the same, and her eyes widened.
“Sweetheart-”
“Shouldn’t we call the cops?”
“She may be family.”
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