Family
My name is Mitch MacLeod. On the first day of school I can tell that it's going to be a bad year. As soon as I walk into the classroom Philip points at me and yells, "Hey, Midget-brain, the kindergarten is down the hall." Everyone looks, naturally, including any new kids I might have had a chance with. Chevy chips in, "Here, little boy, I'll take you to Mrs. Granoff." She holds out her hand. You'd never know that over the summer we were practically friends. She totally towers over me, but I ignore her.
A faint sound brushed her ear, and she heard a voice whisper death. She glanced around, astonished. A gentle breeze had picked up, rippling the long grass in the meadow. She frowned. There was no one else there except Ira and Maddy, and the only sound was the rustling of the aspen leaves by the creek.
