Milk or Sugar Daniel Gergeus

Late Night Break In

Emma Laragione

Charlie glanced to the clock, which flashed 1:12AM at her in a vibrant red. Sighing, she leaned back and spun in her desk chair, then peeked at the house next-door. The lights were all out. She grabbed a hoodie off the floor and fumbled into it, pulled her hair through the collar and swung her bag over her shoulder. Before leaving her room, Charlie peered down the hallway, taking note of the lack of light shining underneath the door down the hall. The socks with the cat pattern she was wearing softened her footsteps as she crept out of her room and down the stairs, deftly skipping the two that creaked, arriving at the front door. She placed her hand upon the doorframe as she pulled the door open, made a crack just wide enough to slip through, and eased the door shut behind her. She let out a breath before crossing the yard and jumping the fence.

Even though the lights were out, she still peered through the living room windows to make sure no one was downstairs. After her survey, Charlie slunk to the trellis, which was covered in ivy and morning glories, and proceeded to climb it. Her feet uncomfortably arched to fit into the holes of the trellis, but with all the practice she’d had, she knew how to get the best grip even with socks on. The window above the trellis was always unlocked, so when she reached the top, she just slid it open, jiggling it in the place it usually sticks. Charlie hoisted herself over the windowsill and rolled into the room, but when she landed, she hit her funny bone and hissed a curse.

The other girl in the room flinched and looked up from the laptop in front of her. Charlie winced and looked to the girl and then the door, worried the other members of the house may have heard her thump to the floor. She motioned for the girl in the bed to be quiet and received a glare in return, the illumination of the blue light from the laptop making the shadows of her expression all the more prominent. She sat up, disrupting the covers draped over her, and leaned toward Charlie.

“I told you not to sneak in here after midnight anymore,” she whispered harshly.

“Hi to you too, Liv,” Charlie groaned, sitting up.

“Please, your mom loves me.” Charlie grinned before she hoisted herself to her knees and burrowed her elbows on the edge of the bed to support her chin. “And I wouldn’t have snuck in if you had just answered your phone. I need help with math.”

“You’re the worst. You’re annoying and I hate you.”

“I love you too,” Charlie pushed at Olivia’s leg as started to pull herself onto the bed, “Now scootch over and help me.”

Carly Broseman Photography Silent Dusk