Dance with Me

It was just a dream,
she told herself. She felt her heart start to slow
down.
Then it sped up again, and Samantha sat up.
It wasn’t just a dream!
“Chica,” she whispered.
Her dream had just told her more about the chick in Susie’s drawing. The
chick was Chica. Chica had been chasing Samantha in the dream. Samantha
had been trying to move a shelf in her dad’s office, and Chica had been
stalking her.
Samantha gasped. Her dad’s office! That’s where …
Samantha froze when she heard sounds.
Thud … tap … thud … tap.
Samantha started to shake.
Those were the sounds. They were the same sounds Samantha had heard
so many times over the last few months, the sounds she’d tried to convince
herself she’d imagined.
She hadn’t imagined them.
Those were the sounds.
Except they weren’t exactly the same.
They were closer.
Much closer.
Samantha had always thought the sounds she’d heard came from outside
the house. Now she knew they were inside, and coming closer.
When Chica started up the stairs, Susie tried to follow. But she couldn’t. It
was like she was glued to the doorway, trapped there by invisible chains.
“Chica, stop!” she yelled.
Chica didn’t stop. She climbed slowly but steadily up the stairs.
She was going for Samantha; Susie was sure of it. Susie struggled to free
herself from whatever held her in place. She tried and tried to move. Then
she started to cry, and she did the only thing she could do to help her sister.

---

“Samantha!” she shouted. “Run!”
Samantha vaulted out of her bed and ran to her bedroom door. Could she
get to her mom’s room before whatever was coming up the stairs got to the
top?
Opening her door a crack, she looked toward the stairs. No. It was too
late. A bright yellow man-sized chick with horrible sharp teeth was one step
from the top, just a few feet from Samantha’s door.
She slammed her door and looked around her room. As the footsteps
came closer, she dove under her bed.
When the door started opening, Samantha went rigid and held her breath
as orange metal feet crossed the wood floor.
This couldn’t be real.
But it was.
Trembling, Samantha watched the feet circle her bed. She couldn’t hold
her breath any longer, so she carefully let in a little air.
The feet stopped.
They turned.
They began coming back around the bed. Then they paused.
Samantha heard a terrifying whirring sound, and suddenly, the bedspread
hanging over the side of the bed shifted. A yellow face with purplish eyes
and deadly teeth peered at Samantha.
Samantha writhed away from the face, squirming toward the opposite
side of the bed. Once out from under the bed, she looked over her shoulder,
wondering if she could get past to flee her room before the chick
straightened …
No. It was already standing, staring.
Samantha ran to the window. She tried not to listen to the 
thud … tap …
thud … tap
as she fumbled with the window lock.
Tremors, like butterfly wings, fluttered between her shoulder blades. She
ignored them.
The steps muffled as they crossed her rug. She only had seconds.
Crawling through the window, Samantha gripped the interlocking
diamonds of the trellis, and swung her legs out. The sound of ripping fabric
made her look back through the window.

---

The chick was right there! It held a piece of her pale-blue nightgown in
its hand.
Samantha whimpered and scrambled down the trellis. Keeping her gaze
on the vine that clung to the trellis, she went as fast as she could. She was in
her stocking feet, so the wood felt sharp against her soles, but she didn’t
care.
She also didn’t look up. She didn’t want to know if she was being
chased.
When her feet encountered a rough, solid surface, she knew she’d
reached the porch roof. Then she did look up.
Nothing was coming down the trellis after her. Good.
But not that good. If she wasn’t fast enough, Chica could go back
through the house and get her when she reached the porch.
Chica.
Samantha’s mind had finally forced her to see what she hadn’t wanted to
see. The chick in the house was Chica.
In her drawing, Susie had been trying to say that Chica didn’t want Susie
to have Gretchen.
Why?
Samantha didn’t know. But she knew she was right.
Chica was coming after her because she was looking for Gretchen.
Samantha gritted her teeth as she leaned over the edge of the porch roof
to grab one of the porch posts. Could she grip it well enough to drop her
legs down to the railing?
She had to. For Susie.
Samantha was going to get down and get back inside the house. Then
she was going to find Gretchen … because thanks to her dream, she knew
where to look.
But could she get there before Chica?
Susie didn’t know how much time she was caught in the doorway listening
to the sounds of Chica’s footsteps upstairs. She heard several other thumps,
too, but she never heard Samantha scream. She hoped that was a good sign,
but she wasn’t sure.

---

She thought she’d be in the doorway forever. Time went on and on and
on.
Then she saw Chica at the top of the stairs. She was coming back down.
And she didn’t have Samantha.
If she could have moved, Susie would have fallen to the ground in relief.
Instead, all she could do was watch Chica come down the steps.
Then, suddenly, Samantha appeared from outside!
Her face white and her eyes wide, her hair in a tangle, Samantha rushed
past Susie.
Samantha’s head was down, and her gaze was on her feet. She didn’t
look at Susie. She didn’t even look up the stairs at Chica.
Susie watched Samantha dart into the dining room and disappear toward
the kitchen. Where was Samantha going?
Samantha didn’t know why she didn’t think of it before. Maybe it was
because, even though she kept thinking about him, she really wanted to
forget her dad. It was bad enough that Susie got taken from them. At least
Susie didn’t leave on purpose. She didn’t want to leave. She was taken, and
she was