Puppetry

Five: Found It (Sherbet)

My first idea was to ask around the neighbourhood. Saying that, it's kinda hard to ask someone if their missing a power drill, some puppet strings and, while I'm there, any face paints.
As expected, nobody had any clue what I was saying.

I am known now as a crazy 15-year-old girl. Christ.

I've been mentally telling myself to get some rest and stop for a second, but with the clues looming over me, it's been hard. I've decided to stop for a few days, even if it literally pains me to do so. So there I was, watching a soap opera with a hot chocolate. Not an ideal way to go, but hey. It's rest.

Maybe it was the drink, the ludicrously boring show or just the fact that I hadn't got any sleep for two days straight, but I fell into a deep sleep. And I just let it consume me.

Emerald throws me into the air, and catches me by the waist. She's laughing hard, repeatedly throwing me into the air. We're in a woodlands, underneath a canopy of birch trees. I look around. There's three sleeping beds and a fire pit. A shotgun is next to one of the beds. I hear another sound. It's a laugh, but it's not mine or hers. It's not friendly either. Emerald is running towards to the gun. She's scared. That guy coming out of the shadows, it's him again. He lunges toward me. Darkness.

I woke up, drowned in sweat and panting. The air seems so stale. I feel coldness, all of a sudden. I direct my gaze over toward the back door. The television is still blaring, but the news is on now.

As of yesterday, the confirmation of Emerald's death has been delayed...

Not again.
I close the door, and leaned towards my laptop. A new Google tab was open.

Ever since I remembered Oscar, I'd had a craze over puppets.

Tomorrow I decided to visit the local puppeteer; get his opinion on what puppet I should get.

I think his name was Etan....?