The ELEPHANT KIDS via LONDON LIBRARY

It wasn't enough for Jermaine, therefore the rest of his siblings had to match him, an obligation running wild in Yates family. Jermaine, his tongue licked down on the burgundy, salty liquid off his shoulder edge; he never craned his head to have a reach.

Blondie didn't look like a victim to Jermaine. His intention was crystal toward her. His hatred toward miss cobalt eyes got fueled that afternoon when blondie had shown interest in his brother Francis; third in the lineage to madness, and whose puberty should've adjusted his voice to adulthood and choked this stone-blind attraction out of these village girls' conscious by now. Jermaine's suspicion toward Francis engaged himself to a vile purpose when he'd cut a deal with the second sibling in line, Nora, another file of secrecies, a deal to learn about Francis's new girlfriend. A purpose going for reusable weakness. Anything at this point!

Thereafter putting on the murk, resistant gloves, Jermaine relocated the body in the bathtub of king-sized consideration. It took him little effort to drag blondie by this slim throat of hers. The waterfall sound that whooshed from the fist-wide faucet seemed to mute the music blasting through stereos. Jermaine didn't need to lure Yolanda, what a weird name for a blonde, he'd still judge so, aloud. He'd waited for Yolanda to return her book at London Library.

Jermaine gazed at Yolanda as her skin dissolved unbelievably quicker than a blink. He sighed an undertone of rue, blame him not, but his rue came from the lack of affection he expressively wanted from Yolanda. He then dived a hand and gave her a shake. On the fourth shake, the bottom of the large bathtub appeared as clear as a cleaned window. No more trace of rejection. The same spotless feeling sat in Jermaine while he climbed the steps leading out.

The London Library had a significant crowd of real readers, image readers; kids who'd rather show up to snicker over the human body in Visual Dictionary; others would stop by because they possessed no computer at home; wrinkled people would smell a belched puff of dry sweat, and there was one whom Jermaine had once plotted to end. But this old man had advised Jermaine about not holding grudges against his father; that advise was as unexpected as it touched the warmth in his Jermaine heart.

The exit Jermaine surfaced from, could be found on the second floor, yet would lead to the basement, brick-built. The second floor would appear as a half-moon from the main floor, save that from above it installed in Jermaine an ownership of the lives on the main floor.

"Hey, moron," shouted a cringy voice. "Get down here!"

Another shushing flew at Nora standing at the entry. She shushed back the worker at the front desk as her footfalls stalked one another to the spiral staircase, rushing her anger to Jermaine.

"Whatever happened to you," warned Jermaine. "Keep it, we have a home now."

Nora grabbed his hand, but the second she sensed a saturation of resistance, said, "Do not fight me on this; just come with me."

During their destination, Nora updated Jermaine about the storm that'd transpired in the mansion, and who would likely be the type to light up fireworks in the living room then interrogate her babysitter under the pressure that she'd be eaten by an alligator.

"We have an alligator?" the question itself amazed Jermaine.

"Not cool if that's what you're thinking."

Jermaine shoved back on his best, serious expression. He fixed his left leg on the passenger seat so that he could read a hint of this drive winding up being a trap.

"Put on your seat-belt," her Nora tone urged to do so.

"When I'll be dead." His squint narrowed again, this time Jermaine noticed something in side-glance. Nervous-ss. "You should slow down a little if you're so much worried about me dying, you should also worry about getting a ticket."

"My saving account can handle it," replied her confidence.

Nora stopped by the store he had to debate for. Jermaine understood that it'd been four days he was away to get blondie even though her hair root carried a tinge of brown. The fact that Nora rushed him to hurry on a small subject like little Edna, fifth in rank, gave rise to Jermaine's improvisation.

Due to the knowledge that thrift store had broad windows, Jermaine strode out of Nora's observation. There, he pulled out his cellphone. A bad news came to his awareness. The battery displayed one bar. Another result for monitoring the library in search of Yolanda. Then: He examined who he should call and won't snitch, at least not right away. The brownness of long hair came to mind. A feature Jermaine had been wanting to punch. Occasionally Francis.

"Do me a service," hurried Jermaine to say the instant Francis's "Hello?" was heard.

"Kinda busy, right now," said Francis.

"You don't need to go anywhere."

The sound of caress on a rough texture moaned through. "What you want?"

"Call me on this number when you found out what's happening at the house, hurry up, thanks, bye."

The manor of ten bedrooms loomed within every meter Nora decreased for their arrival to be brief. She didn't accelerate on this precise occasion, knowing now was the chance to suppress her excitement to cease from engendering her chest to pump. And there was one face in her memory, she could despise for reason of being a beatable Karl Riley. Pizza face, she'd call Karl.

When Jermaine looked behind, he had a sneaking suspicion on the distance Nora had parked the 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 396 hardtop.

Within the lapse Nora had left to clench the doorknob, a ringing cried from Jermaine's pocket, halting him on the third step out of five. His hand rushed to squeeze through the dress pants.

"Can't you answer that later?" begged with behavior and tone, she was still grasping the doorknob. "We don't have much time to save her."

Jermaine and his walk climbed the remaining steps to inch toward Nora Yates. And while the door swung broad, Francis spoke in Jermaine's ear through the cellular. One sneeze swifter than the heart attack he could've had by stepping inside, Jermaine assemportated, leaving his cellphone to land on a clanking resound.  

 Nora with frown, her confusion dropped on the flooring of planks, where Jermaine was supposed to be standing, yet was not.

"Since when he can route himself so quickly?" perplexed Nora...