Cursed

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Something soft and warm—definitely hand-sized—settled on my chest, and then moved to the right, headed uphill. I wasn’t sure why I expected to be looking into the baby blues of some hot guy when I opened my eyes. Maybe it was because I’d just had the best dream of my life. But I certainly didn’t expect to be staring into washed-out, ghostly blue eyes.

There was a hamster perched on my chest, its white-and-brown fur covered in grime. Specks of dirt covered my nightshirt, and bits of gravel clung to my bedspread.

I screamed.

Startled, the hamster scurried off my chest and disappeared under the covers. I jumped off the bed, almost face-planting into the worn-out carpet in the process. I ran from the room, wanting to scream again.

My heart was still thumping when I slowed outside my little sister’s bedroom. Her door hung cracked open, and my gaze fell first to her bed. Finding it empty, I scanned the room. Early morning light spilled into the bedroom, casting shadows over Olivia’s slight frame.

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