It's Friday night and darkness has fallen. I'm knee-deep in Irish Dance preperations and the only one at home.

Well, almost.

As I make my way upstairs, lost in thought and trying to concentrate, I am oblivious to the slight, quivering figure following me, skittering from one patch of light to the next and jumping at shadows. The terrible fright of being left parentless in a big empty house full of spiders and apparations and maybe even ghosts after dark may have worked it's way out of my imagination, but it is far from left the household.

"Boo!"
"Elaina."
She giggles, then shudders. "Once, Kena and I were downstairs alone at church and the boys were chasing us."
"Uh-huh,"
"As usual."
"Uh-huh,"
"And then they jumped out at us and scarred us."
"Uh-huh,"
She pushes herself up onto tip-toe, shoving her face so close to mine that two enormous green eyes and a tiny patch of freckles almost block out the rest of her. "IT NEARLY SCARRED THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF US!!!!"
For a moment, there is silence.
"Oh!"
She sighs and slumps down onto my bed, letting her chin sink into her hands.
"It's happened more than once," she morns.