2017 #YayYA Entry #1: The Yellow Girl

Name: Maria McDaniel  @MariaCMcDaniel

Genre: Thriller

Title: The Yellow Girl

35-word pitch:

Haunted by her parents’ murder, Danni longs for family. Her brother needs justice. When their paths intersect with a boy who sees the unseen—light and dark—Danni will discover some monsters are real.

First 500:

It was the sudden exodus of crows from her mother’s lime tree that first told Danni he was coming. Even before she heard the gritty crunch of tires on the wet driveway, or the sound of a car door closing, the crows had fled the tree’s slender branches and swarmed like bats into the darkened sky. 

“Momma, the crows are back,” she’d said, just before.

“Danni, please. Stop saying that.”

Danni pressed her nose against the windowpane and huffed a cloud of steam from flattened nostrils. “Well, they are.”

The girl was small for her age, which vexed her, with eyes too large for her face and a wild mane of hair that refused to be managed. Glancing toward her mother, she noted the tension in her posture as she bent over her keyboard, fingers tapping madly. For the hundredth time that day, Danni felt a curling in her stomach, like a length of wire winding into knots. 

A dark shape swooped across the garden, drawing her gaze back outdoors. All week long, dozens of blackbirds had gathered on the lawn like feathered loiterers in a prison yard. Danni had planted herself by the front window—counting crows and pretending she wasn’t—and she happened to know that ten of them were perched among the limes in her mother’s tree beside the porch. 

Squinting slightly, she drew a face on the steamed glass; just a lump-like circle, mismatched eyes and a crooked mouth. Bending, she looked through the eyeholes, peering out at the birds in the rain-drenched yard. Something cold crept over her shoulders, then, because all ten had grown quiet and still, and each pair of eyes stared back at her.

“Momma”—she kept her voice low—“are they regular crows?”

“Of course they’re regular,” her mother replied absently. “What else would they be?”

“It seems like they’re thinking stuff.”

“Now you’re being silly.”

Danni frowned at the face she’d drawn on the glass, then decided to add a long, protruding tongue. And also fangs. “Since they’ve come, everybody’s upset.”

“Nobody’s upset.”

“I’m upset. Elliot’s upset.”

Her mother’s sigh could be heard from across the room. “Danielle, I’m sorry we have to move.”

There was a long pause, and then a whisper. “It’s because of that big, red ‘V’ on all your papers.” 

Elizabeth Ireland’s fingers stopped typing. “Who told you that?”

“Elliot.” Danni’s eyes returned to the crow-laden tree. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? That’s why they’re here.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Her mother slammed her hand against the desk and stood to her feet. “It’s got nothing to do with the dumb crows!”

It might’ve been her sudden movement, or the sound of her palm, smacking hard against the desk, or the fact that she’d shouted (when she never shouted), but that had been the moment—the precise moment—when every bird in the yard took flight. When the air finally cleared of their screeching bodies, an unfamiliar car was in the driveway.

Genre: Thriller with Supernatural Elements

Ten years ago

It was the sudden exodus of crows from her mother’s tree that first told Danni he was coming. All week long, dozens of the black birds had gathered on the lawn like feathered loiterers in a prison yard. Danni had planted herself by the front window—counting crows and pretending she wasn’t—and she happened to know that ten of them had perched among the limes in her mother’s tree beside the porch.

“Momma, the crows are back.”

Elizabeth Ireland hunched closer to her laptop screen and refused to shudder. “Danni, please. Stop saying that.”

Danni pressed her nose against the windowpane and huffed a cloud of steam from flattened nostrils. “Well, they are.” For the hundredth time that day, there was a curling in her stomach, like a length of wire winding into knots.

She was small for her age, which vexed her, with eyes too large for her face and a wild mane of hair that refused to be managed. Squinting slightly, she drew a face on the steamed glass; just a lump-like circle, mismatched eyes and a crooked mouth. She bent and looked through the eyeholes, peering out at the birds in the rain-drenched yard. Something cold crept over her shoulders, then, because all ten crows had grown quiet and still, and each pair of eyes stared back at her.

“Momma”—she kept her voice low—“are they regular crows?”

“Of course they’re regular,” her mother replied, not shifting her gaze from the screen. “What else would they be?”

“It seems like they’re thinking stuff.”

“Now you’re being silly.”

Danni frowned at the face she’d drawn on the glass, deciding to add a long, protruding tongue. And fangs. “Since they’ve come, everybody’s upset.”

“Nobody’s upset.”

“I’m upset. Elliot’s upset.” For once, Danni and her older brother had actually agreed on something. “It’s because of that big, red ‘V’ on all your papers, isn’t it?”

Elizabeth Ireland’s fingers stopped typing. “Who told you that?”

“Elliot.” Danni’s finger traced a deep “V” across the face in the glass, then another, and another, marring the image into a smeared, angry scribble. “Something’s wrong. That’s why they’re here.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Danielle!” Her mother slammed her hand against the desk and stood. “It’s got nothing to do with the dumb crows!” 
It might’ve been her sudden movement, or the sound of her palm smacking hard against the desk, or the fact that she’d shouted (when she never shouted), but that was the moment—the precise moment—when every bird in the yard took flight. Danni screamed, scrambling backward across the floor as the crows fled the lime tree’s slender branches and swarmed like bats into the darkened sky.  When the air finally cleared of their screeching bodies, an unfamiliar car was in the driveway.