White House Autumn

Ellen Emerson White

Feiwel & Friends

“Meggie?” Neal asked, sound scared.
     “What?” She realized that she was trembling and must have unconsciously clutched at his arm. “I mean, don’t worry, everything’s okay.” Maybe if she kept saying it, it would be true.
     “I’m scared.” He was crying again. “I want Mommy and Daddy.”
     “I know. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon.” She took a deep shaky breath. Now that she had started thinking, she couldn’t stop remembering the things she had read in books and seen on television her whole life, all the people who had been shot, all the—except she couldn’t. She couldn’t let herself think about it, she had to stop picturing the shots, her mother falling, the blood—stop it! she ordered herself. Stop thinking about it. You want to crack up in front of Steven and Neal? Get a grip, damn it!
     But, that beautiful gray dress. Her mother falling, the blood spreading over the gray cloth, agents swarming around—stop it! Stop thinking about it.