The Lady Across From Us

i was once one of two little kids looking out a window.
We peered out, nervous and on tiptoe, jostling each-other to see through the gap.
My clumsy little fingers making an opening in the venetian blinds so that we could see without being seen.
I was the girl. Julian was the boy. We were the same height and had almost the same haircut.
We were in my room which was painted pale green because thats the colour i liked at the time and we were looking at the lady that lived across the street.

She was a witch. She hated kids. She had a cupboard full of rotting meat, where she made the children she had kidnaped sleep.

She was old, and wore a tracksuit which was all one shade of bone.

She couldn't see us because we were spying, and we were good at it.

The lady was outside her house, on the nature strip, pulling up weeds with a knife. She was kneeling down.

She used her witchy powers and she saw us.

She looked up slowly, and then she stood, straining to see.
She looked right at us and we froze.

And then she lifted the knife up, out in front of her throat, and silently drew it across from left to right.

I jumped back from the window and dropped the blind.
We ran and hid under the bed.