Terry Laine Pierce
The soft breeze of the winds is blowing against the old-fashioned windows since Dante turned off the air-conditioner to let us inhale the fresh breeze of the morning.
I’m confused as hell, I wanted to get mad but what he’s saying just really wants me to ask more questions.
A witch? How could he call my grandmother a witch? Did she do something bad at him? But grandma would never do that.
I looked at the picture frame intently because he kept on saying that my grandma is here, trapped because of the witch?
“I-I’m sorry, I’m not catching up real quick,” I explained before looking at him again, “What did you say a while ago?” I patiently asked, so he just sat on the other side of the bed.
“Laine,” my heart skipped a beat after he called my name, I badly missed him cal
