Saving Karrie – Stellar

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Stellar

The sun was just creeping over the Wasatch Mountains as Karrie slipped her tracker off her wrist and climbed out of her second story bedroom window. She smiled to herself as the saw the device still flashing blue, blue, Stellar blue. No evidence that she ever left the house that morning. Landing catlike on the deck, she quickly sprinted across the yard, dropped into the irrigation ditch that allowed her to go under the fence, not over.

She’d made this trip many times, and it was easy to lay low, unseen by passing cars. She found herself in the park, watching for lights in Tesla’s house. None came on. It was a Sunday, and the family, not being one of the faithful, didn’t rise early after Saturday night. Karrie counted on that. She’d been there many times, and knew that even Tesla, herself, would be comatose right now. But, she wasn’t in a hurry. She had to do this right.

As she watched she recalled the nights Tesla ordered her to the park, to the rest room, and they took her money, and her childhood. Then came the court case. Then the treatment center, and that center got whatever Tesla and her group missed.

When she was sure that no one was awake she eased across the street. Looking all around she slipped her hand beneath the garage door. She knew it wouldn’t be locked. It never was. This was Tesla’s way in and out. Slowly, quietly, she eased the door up just enough to allow her to roll under. Then, even slower, she let the door down. There wasn’t anyone in the garage. If caught, she would say that she’d run away again, and the family’s would just chase her out. She knew right where the little electric heater was. It was on, but she turned it off to let it cool a bit. Then, shoving it against some blankets hanging over a bed frame, she retrieved a little bottle of nail polish remover from her pocket. Taking the lid off, she placed it inside the guard of the heater right near the element. She turned on the little heater just past the point where it would come on. Quickly going back to the garage door, she again eased it up, rolled under, and ran across the street to the park, waiting on a swing set.

Retrieving a sandwich bag filled with chicken nuggets, she began to pop them into her mouth, one by one. The sun was rising and shining into her face, obstructing her view, so she put on her mirror sunglasses. As the glow began to show through the garage windows, and the flames appeared, reflected on the mirrors before her eyes, Karrie popped another nugget into her mouth, grinned, and said, “Stellar!”The Butcher Shop

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The Butcher Shop is an alternative news source based in the Tea Party Tribune. It is a collection of minds started by Bill the Butcher, a conservative op/ed journalist who began publishing forty years ago. We strive to make the articles informative, entertaining, and diverse. All you see will cause you to stop and consider. We try not to drone on with the same old day after day clap trap that may have driven you away from mainstream media. So, what’s your cut of meat? Shop around. The Butcher Shop is happy to fill your order.

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