She hissed, right there behind my ear, and I had the horrible idea she was spitting maggots into my hair. Why maggots were a problem when I was about to be dead, I didn’t know, but the idea completely grossed me out.
“In the womb I heard you die, for no one lives when a banshee cries.”
I wasn’t just going to die. I was going to be rhymed to death. That simply wasn’t fair.

Author: C.E. Murphy