Maple Lane

As I closed my bedroom curtains, I looked out the window at the snowman I had built that afternoon.  The longer I looked, the more it looked like it was smiling.  But it couldn’t really be smiling, right?  I shook my head, closed the curtains and got into bed, but the longer I tried to force myself to sleep, the more I thought about the snowman.  The snowman and my neighbor.  Mrs. Norris was the one neighbor that most kids on the street were afraid of.  The only one they would cross the street specifically so they would not have to even walk on the sidewalk in front of her house. 

There were rumors she was a witch, brewed her own potions and sat at her front window because she often cast spells on those who made her angry.  I had always thought maybe she was just lonely, but the more I thought about the snowman, the more I wondered about Mrs. Norris.  Sometime in the middle of the night, I got out of bed solely to check on the snowman.  But not only was the snowman definitely smiling in the moonlight, he was now significantly closer to my bedroom window.  As I slowly backed away from the window, trying not to scream for my mother, I saw Mrs. Norris’ porch light turn on.  My breathing quickened, but my feet stayed glued to the spot.  My curtains had gotten caught on my desk lamp, so I still had a straight look on the snowman as well as Mrs. Norris’ front door.  And before I could blink, much less close my curtains, Mrs. Norris was standing on her front porch.  Staring directly at me.  The gleam in her eyes was the last thing I remembered clearly.   

Before I knew it, three days had passed, and I had no idea what I had done.  Where I had been.  Who I had talked to.  The only thing clear to me was I was to obey every single thing Mrs. Norris asked me to do.  And to believe every single lie she told me.  Because she was the Queen of Maple Lane. 


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