NanoWriMo 2013: 03

Jeanine stirred. She usually slept right through the night, but something woke her, tonight. A noise?

She looked at her clock. 3:27am. Right, then, back to–

Something wasn’t right. She half-scanned her room, and noticed a window open.

She never left the windows open at night.

She knew. She KNEW.

Something was in her bedroom. SOMEONE was in her bedroom.

Yeah, OK. On the fifth floor of an el cheapo apartment building, without a balcony or fire escape. Someone had climbed up, opened her window, and entered her bedroom.

Right. OK. Going back to

“Hello, Jeanine,” a young, adult, male voice said. Jeanine jumped out of her skin, screaming.

A light switched on, from her desk. A young man, dressed in a grey windbreaker, glasses, casual shoes, Dockers… sitting on her desk. Climbing in from the fifth floor window without a balcony or fire escape.

And she KNEW him.


Scott, yes. Little Scott Weaver. Years back, at summer camp. Jeanine had never been stung by a bee before in her life, so she never knew she was allergic. When everyone else ran back to get the counselors, Scott was there. He was allergic too. But he knew, and he carried a pen with epinephrine on him, at all times. Just in case.

Scott had saved her that day. Fifteen years ago.

“Jeanine…” began Scott. Jeanine sat up in her bed. She didn’t know what to do.

“Do you remember, what you said to me, when I gave you my EpiPen, in the woods?”

“Y-yes?” Jeanine stammered.

“You said, ‘I owe you my life.’ You DO remember, yes?”

She slowly nodded.

Scott smiled, bearing his teeth. And a set of fangs, that nerdy looking little Scott Weaver didn’t have fifteen years ago, in the woods.

“Well… I’ve come to collect.”


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