THE WEIRD LITTLE GIRL

Thunk thunk thunk. The sound awakens me, but I can't open my eyes yet. I feel kind of sick. My head is throbbing. I'm curled on my side in a fetal ball. My arms and legs are cramped, and I try to stretch, but I seem to be stuck in a small space.

Thunk thunk thunk. When I can open my eyes, I see the bars of the wicker cage that holds me. The cage rests on a floor of cracked and stained vinyl tiles. My side aches where the sticks press into my ribs beneath me. My wrists and ankles are tightly bound by cords, and a strip of heavy tape covers my mouth. Something is definitely off, and not just a little.

Thunk thunk thunk. I know that sound. It's a kitchen knife hitting a cutting board. I smell fresh cilantro.

Now I hear a new sound — the clatter of a small person running across the floor. Bella's black shoes and white socks appear before me.

"Miss Johnson!" she says. "I remember now! Daddy says we only eat human beans!"