The Story of Burglette: PART III

"Sir," I replied trembling, "I am taking her... She is too small and needs to choose her own life."

Father sneered and whipped Burglette from my hands. He dropped her into a large pocket in his overcoat.

"You fool," he chortled, "it has already been done. She was dipped in the brew just yesterday. Today she is more wicked than even me."

I stared at him, afraid to reply. Father relaxed at my silence and leaned against the black armchair behind him. He drummed his long, skeletal fingers against his coat and looked at me with amused disgust.

Suddenly, I noticed a small pearly tooth jut out from my father's pocket. Then three more teeth broke through the fabric and quickly closed around my father's fingers.

"GAH!" he screamed, "Burglette, you unlovable, unscrupulous child, REMOVE YOUR TEETH AT ONCE."

At that moment, I took my chance, sprinting through the door and then down the hospital corridor. My father's angry howls followed me until I burst outside and found a large box to hide under.

Hours passed and I waited quietly with my face pressed into my hands, hot tears pooling at my feet. My sister, I thought, She is done for...

TO BE CONTINUED IN TWO WEEKS AS "THE STORY OF BURGLAR"