Paragraphs, Pie Plates and Pictures...

Here is another chunk of the story :) Enjoy!

Her tummy rolled and everything in her body told her to run downstairs, out the door and away from that house.  Only one part, apparently the more powerful part, urged her to stay and find out what it was. 
She once again ascended the ladder into the attic, slower than the first time.  Taking a deep breath, she walked at a steady, albeit shaky pace to the sheet covered shape.
Before she could even tell herself not to, Molly grabbed the sheet and threw it back.  As the sheet fluttered to the floor, it revealed a large stone gargoyle statue.  It was about the size of a large Great Dane and its face was somewhat birdlike.  All Molly remembered seeing before she turned and ran from the attic was the tip of a leathery wing hanging out the side of the monster’s mouth.

Molly stared at the house, most specifically the circular window to the attic.  It seemed almost as if it was staring back at her.  Once she could have sworn it winked at her.  That was impossible though.  As impossible as a stone statue eating a bat.
She kept staring.
She had run out of the house and into a nearby park where she had plopped down and begun the staring marathon while her breathing returned to normal.
Had she really seen what she saw?  Was there really a meat eating statue in the attic?  How could she possibly sleep in that place? 
Her head was aching with the memory of the monster and all the possible rationales she could come up with to protect her sanity.  When it came right down to it, there was no possible way that she saw what she saw. 
“You’re just seeing things.” Molly said, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it more true.
Molly stood up, deciding to go back and unpack her room before her mom could get to it.  It would just end up looking all babyish.  She was thirteen now afterall, very much old enough to decorate her own room.  She walked back towards the house, her eyes still fixed on the attic window.  She stopped when her eyes were suddenly diverted to the living room window downstairs.  She saw her mother curl up into her chair, and then reach for the picture.  Molly sighed and continued to the house, preparing herself for the soft gasps of her mother’s crying.

Molly had already taken her shoes off on the front porch when she slowly opened the door.  It barely made a sound as she swung it closed and the door latched.
“Molly?” called her mother from the living room.
“Dang,” whispered Molly to herself.  It was harder to ignore it if she had to look at her mom’s puffy red eyes.  No matter how mad she was, she couldn’t bear to have her mother cry.  Sometimes she wished she could get rid of the picture.  That picture caused her mom so much pain.  There was no way that could happen.
“Yes Mom?” Molly replied and kept herself from entering the room completely.  Distance was safer.
“Um… Is your room unpacked?” she asked hesitantly.  Molly instantly rolled her eyes, very careful not to make any eye contact.
“No Mom, not yet.”
“Oh ok.  Um, did you want me to make some dinner?”
“No thanks.  Not hungry.”
“Oh.  Ok.”
“Anything else?”
“Uh, no.  Nothing.”  Molly started to leave.
“Molls?”
“Yes Mom?”  Molly didn’t go back in the room.  She didn’t even turn around.
“I love you dolly.”
“You too.”
Molly sprinted up the stairs leaving her mom alone in the dark living room.