I do not own Labyrinth.
#7 New
Her parents dragged her to a garage sale one early Saturday morning.
"The best things will be there bright and early," her mother had said.
Eleven year old Sarah Williams walked around the tiny garage, glancing at each object on sale. She passed a few stuffed toys, nick-knacks, and collector items.
In a corner of the garage was a bookshelf. Sarah walked over to it and started to read the titles of the books. However, one book, in particular, caught her eye.
It was a little red leather-bound book. It wasn't new, but old and tattered.
Labyrinth, it was called.