Tuesday, January 2, 2018
A
crash from the kitchen rocked the house. Brett roared at the top of his lungs.
"Jack!" I said, turning over in the dark bed. I lunged for the lamp. To my surprise, Jack was gone.
I looked up and heard running feet above the ceiling. I sprung up from my bed and darted upstairs.
The five of us met on the fourth floor by the kitchen, and I was surprised by just how many cats were perusing and meowing over the furniture and countertops. Brett was standing by the cabinets—his hand was bleeding.
"What happened!" shouted Jack, who must have been hanging out up on the roof in Travis's tent (Travis had been enjoying his tent on the roof for a few weeks now). They both wore heavy yet stylish winter jackets to combat the ocean winter breeze. Travis also humorously wore two red scarves. . . one around his neck, the other around his head like a turban.
Brett held up his bleeding hand, and looked at all of us with wild eyes that bulged out his skull. "The food! It's gone!" He smacked his bloody hand on the cabinet doors, and the pantry opened up to reveal nothing but shadows and cobwebs.
"Who did this?" Brett said.
All of sudden I looked around. And so did the others.
If it wasn't one of us who stole the food. . . then. . .
"We have a visitor. . ." said George, standing in the corner, while my stomach growled, and my vision focused on George with suspicion.
YOU ARE READING
SWIM Book 1 (Complete three-hundred pages)
Teen Fiction***EDITOR'S CHOICE AWARD*** What would you do if you only had three months to live? When a tsunami traps a girl, her boyfriend, and four other boys in a bay house, starvation, sexual competition, and territorial war tear them apart. Entangled in a h...
