“I don’t want anyone to know I have freaks for parents. I want my family back.”
Elena stars in the story Lockdown.
Not my papa! That was what Elena’s heart screamed. Her papa had a broad brown face and a smile with small square teeth, and his shoulders were so wide that he could hold Elena in one arm and her sister in the other. This weird stranger had moon-glowing eyes, and his pale, narrow face gleamed in the dim light. His hair was a fine white ruff that rose high over his pointy, twitchy ears.
“Honestly, girls,” Mrs. Givens said. “In ten years, you’re going to look back at pictures of yourselves and die of embarrassment.”
Friday was No-Uniforms day, and there was a choir assembly too, so they’d decided to pull out all the stops. That meant black and white horizontal striped shirts, vertically-striped tights, big black boots and little black skirts.
When Elena straightened her elbow after the test was done, blood trickled down her forearm. The aide said, “Hm. That won’t do.” She removed the bandage and stroked a finger over the dark, swollen lump around the needle mark. Tingling warmth slithered down Elena’s arm, and the bruise disappeared.
The aide smiled. “That’s better.”
Elena wiggled her fingers. I wouldn’t mind a power like that. Something small and helpful. That’s something I can pray for, tonight at church.