Six Sentence Sunday! Special Edition

Happy Father's Day everyone!! Hope it's a good one for you all!

Here is a Six Sentence Sunday post. Hope you enjoy.(It's really seven sentences, but who's counting?)

Conversation between Alex and Caleb

Around page 257 something

“You do mean you almost hooked him like, say, with a fishing pole or something?”

My brows furrowed at that imagery. “No.”

"A right hook to the jaw then?”
I shook my head.
He stared at me, his face draining of all color. “Alex, what in the hell are you thinking? ....."

And as a special treat, here is the first look at something .... and that's all I can say at this point. *wink *wink

           Something soft and warm, definitely hand sized, settled on my chest, and then moved to the right, headed uphill.  I wasn’t sure why I expected to be looking into the baby blues of some hot guy when I opened my eyes. Maybe it was because I just had the best dream of my life. But I certainly didn’t expect to be staring into beady black rodent eyes.

            There was a hamster perched on my chest, its white and brown fur covered in grime. Specks of dirt covered my night shirt and bits of gravel clung to the bedspread.

            I screamed.

            Startled, the hamster scurried off my chest and disappeared under the covers.  I jumped off the bed, almost face-planting into the worn-out carpet in the process. I ran from the room, wanting to scream again.
            My heart was still thumping when I slowed outside my little sister’s bedroom. Her door lay cracked opened, and my gaze fell first to her bed. Finding it empty, I scanned the floor. The early morning light spilled into the bedroom, casting shadows over my Olivia’s slight frame.

With her back to the door and head bowed, Olivia sat on the floor. Crimson curls curtained her face. Stepping into the room, I tripped over one of her baby dolls. I forgot about the hamster as I stared down at the doll.  One if her arms had been twisted off. Olivia had taken a sharpie to the doll's face, marking out the eyes. Then, in the ultimate act of weirdness, she’d scribbled the words SEE over the doll’s forehead.

My palms felt sweaty. “Olivia…”

She stiffened. “Ember? I did something bad this morning. You’re gonna be so mad.”
             Dreaded words, bad words coming from a five year old, but I already knew what she had done. I moved around the bed even though I wanted to turn and run. “What did I tell you, Olivia?”
             She tilted her head and stared up at me. Her bright green eyes were wet with tears, shining like glittering emeralds. Lips trembling, a quiet voice came. “I’m sorry. Squeaky got scared when I brought him back in the house. He ran off before I could stop him.”

            Somehow I managed a smile as my eyes fell over her nightgown.  Brown flakes of soil spotted the crisp linen, dirt sprinkled her little arms and chubby fingers. There was a shoebox in her lap, covered in grunge.  

            The very same shoebox I’d used to bury Squeaky in the backyard last night. 

             I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally stringing together as many cuss words I could think of. I should've known she'd do this. A violent shiver went through me. 

            Olivia just couldn't let dead things be.