Free Don't Drink the Punch! by P.J. Night

Kayla’s too-large boots with every step, pulling them away from her heels as she walked. She put her head down and trudged down the front steps and down the driveway. It was a dark, howling night. She stepped as carefully as she could while still moving as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t be good if she slipped and broke her arm. By the time she got to the sidewalk, the insides of the bootswere filled with snow that had fallen in through the top, and Kayla’s poor toes were starting to freeze.
    Clouds covered the moon, and the streetlamps were out along Alice’s block. It was so dark she could barely see her own feet as she walked. She prayed she wouldn’t forget the way. Right turn at the corner. Two blocks down. Right turn onto the street where Esoterica was. She kept reciting the way to herself. It felt like miles.
    She slipped and slid and once actually wiped out, getting snow up her sleeve and in her hair and feeling a sharp pain in her wrist as she tried to break her fall. But in her panicky state she barely noticed.
    After what felt like hours, she finally turned onto the block where Matilda’s store was. It was as dark as all the others. It seemed like the entire town had lost power. She broke into a run in her haste to get to the door, her scarf flying behind her, her hair whipping into her face beneath the hat she wore.
    Esoterica was dark and quiet. No flashlights or candles shone from within. A CLOSED sign hung in the window. No footprints marred the snow. Clearly no one had gone in or out in quite some time. Her heart sank. Despair rose inside her. She started to cry, thewind freezing the tears on her face, silently sobbing with frustration, panic, and sheer terror. She tried not to think of her mother back in that horrible room, frozen, unseeing, not alive, not dead, but caught somewhere in between. She tried not to think about how she had felt ashamed of her mother’s accent, and that maybe this whole thing was somehow her fault, a punishment for being ashamed. She vowed to herself that if she had the opportunity to feel her mother’s arms around her again, she would never, ever be embarrassed by her mother’s accent, or their old car, or about wearing her cousin’s hand-me-downs. She was so lucky in so many ways. How could she not have realized it until now?
    She tried the knob. Locked, of course. It seemed pointless to bang on the door, but she did so anyway. She waited, listening for a sound, anything. She heard nothing. She pounded again. She wiped away a circle of frost from the storefront window and tried to peer inside, but she could see nothing. No—wait. Had that been a flicker of movement?
    She strained her eyes, trying to peer into the murky interior of the shop.
    A pair of green eyes suddenly appeared in the swirlof frost she’d cleared away. They stared out at her, unblinking.
    She jumped back, startled, nearly stepping out of her boots. It was Jinx. He continued to stare at her, his eyes seeming to bore into her very soul.
    And that was when the door flew open.

CHAPTER 14
    Matilda stood in the doorway, regarding Kayla. It was impossible to read her expression in the darkness. She was motionless, her face in shadow, hands hanging limply at her sides. She was dressed in a sleeveless, shapeless cotton dress over a white ribbed turtleneck. On her feet she wore white socks shoved into an old pair of men’s slippers. She didn’t look like a twelve-year-old girl. Her outfit reminded Kayla of what her grandmother would wear around the house, with her hair coiled up in rollers, on a day when she planned to stay home and clean.
    â€œWhat do you want?” Matilda finally asked.
    Kayla pointed toward her own mouth and shook her head.
    â€œOh, I see. Were you foolish enough to take a sip ofpunch? Must have spit it out, or you’d be much worse off than this.”
    Kayla stood there, her eyes pleading.
    â€œAll right, fine. You might as well