Krystina sat hunched over her solid oak desk as the first crack of lightning flashed outside the large French doors of her bedroom. She had been furio...sly scribbling away in her diary, recounting one by one her beloved thoughts and precious memories. She listened keenly for the clash of thunder to sound, soon enough it pounded loudly against her eardrum and the world outside. Beyond the French doors held a small, yet modest, balcony that overlooked the vast and beautiful gardens of her parent's. I was hurt by the amount of energy she was spending on waiting for him to call. Finally, at about twenty past eleven, her phone buzzed again. She quickly picked it up.Then turned to me and said, ”They are here.”She said it shyly, with a little smile. To me, it was as ominous as the time that little girl in the movie Poltergeist said the same words. I could see the guilt in her eyes. I then got up and gathered the kids. We met up with Sandra a few minutes later. She was waiting with the Turks on. More

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