Truth or Dare . ., page 5
The minute Abby’s fingers curled around her phone, the screen went dark. A freezing blast of air surrounded her; she tried to get out from under the bed but couldn’t wiggle free. It was like an unseen hand was holding her down, in the dark, in the cold, and Abby couldn’t escape, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
All she could do was scream!
CHAPTER 7
“ABBY! Abby! What’s wrong?” cried Mrs. Miller as she burst into the room, with Mr. Miller and Chester following right behind her.
“Mom!” Abby screamed. “Mom! Help! I can’t get out!”
“Honey, honey, calm down,” Mrs. Miller said, and Abby felt the warm, comforting touch of her mother’s hand on her back. “Let me see. Your T-shirt is caught on the bed frame, honey. Hold on . . . there. You can get out now.”
Abby shot out from under the bed, blinking back tears of terror and relief. She wiped her eyes with her hands as she exhaled in a long, jagged sigh. Chester gave her a big lick on the face.
“Kiddo! What’s going on? You really scared us,” said Mr. Miller, an expression of concern on his face.
Abby looked at her parents and knew that she needed to tell them everything. “I—I don’t know what’s happening,” she began. “I was trying to look something up online, but then my computer froze, and my whole room got freezing cold and I couldn’t get out from under the bed!”
Mr. Miller walked across the room to Abby’s computer. “So this old thing’s giving you trouble?” he asked. “I can take a look at it after dinner—but you remember how to restart it, right?”
“Dad! That’s not the point,” Abby exclaimed. “All this weird stuff happened at the same time! I went under the bed and it got so cold in here—the air was like ice—”
Mrs. Miller reached out and rested her hand against Abby’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “You don’t feel feverish to me.”
“You’re not listening—,” Abby began shrilly as she ducked out from under her mom’s hand.
“You know, Abby, this is an old house,” Mr. Miller interrupted her as he poked his head under the bed. “There are all sorts of drafts in just about every room. I can see about adding some insulation under the floorboards before winter comes. That would probably help.”
“Sweetie, what were you doing under the bed in the first place?” asked Mrs. Miller. She and Mr. Miller exchanged a glance, and in their eyes, Abby saw it: that awful look of parental humoring. They thought she was overreacting, like a small child who was afraid of things that go bump in the night.
That was when Abby realized that there was nothing she could say or do that would convince her parents to take her seriously.
So why even bother?
The text messages, Abby suddenly realized. I could show them those awful texts. But then a new thought occurred to her. What if her parents freaked out and took away her phone?
It didn’t seem worth the risk.
Abby sighed. “I just . . . I was trying to get my phone. It fell under the bed. It’s not important. Forget it.”
“Come on, Abby, let’s go eat dinner,” Mrs. Miller suggested. “I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes! Didn’t you hear me?”
Abby shook her head as she followed her parents out of the bedroom. She didn’t have much appetite, but she was eager—desperate, even—to get out of her room and away from everything that had just happened there.
Bolstered by a good meal and feeling courageous, Abby hurried back to her bedroom after dinner, but she made sure to leave her door open. If Leah and her parents weren’t going to take all these strange things seriously, then Abby would have to figure them out by herself.
Abby’s computer hummed to life as she restarted it and logged onto the Internet. For once, she didn’t bother checking her e-mail or signing into IM. Instead she opened up Google and searched for the phrase “proof of ghosts.”
Dozens of websites flooded the page, promising everything from certified ghost hunters to scary horror movies. But one site in particular caught Abby’s eye. She clicked on the link and tapped her fingers impatiently as she waited for the page to load.
When the Paranormal Gets Personal
The only people who can afford not to believe in ghosts are those who have never been troubled by them. It takes but one encounter with the other world to know that though death waits for us all, the spirit is eternal. Electrical interference, sudden drops in air temperature, unexpected—and unexplained—visions are all calling cards from beyond the grave. Even the most pragmatic disbeliever will find it difficult to explain away all manner of paranormal phenomena, especially when they occur simultaneously.
As she read, Abby started nodding her head. Everything in the article sounded very familiar.
For most spirits, the journey to the other side is an easy one; the gentle letting go of the earthly life is simply part of the natural cycle of being. But some spirits are unprepared for death and find it impossible to tear themselves away from their earthly concerns. This is especially true for those who have suffered untimely death; instead of accepting that their lives were cut short, these spirits long for more—more time with their friends, more time with their families, more time with their loved ones. They are overcome by the sense that they have been cheated of their due; the drive to live becomes like a drug, addictive and intoxicating. With all their strength, these spirits resist the pull of the beyond, desperate to cling to the lives they once lived.
Abby felt a chill run down her spine. She hugged herself tight and glanced at her bedroom door to make sure it was still open . . . just in case.
Sadly for these spirits, there is no going back; once the life force has been extinguished, they find themselves nearly powerless in the earthly realm, unable to be seen or heard (in most cases). This virtual invisibility grows increasingly painful for them, especially as they see their loved ones move through the stages of grief and eventually begin to resume their lives. With a sad and silent farewell, many reluctant spirits will, at this point, resolve to pass over; it is simply too painful for them to watch life from the sidelines.
But some spirits find themselves enraged by these developments, especially if they think that they are being forgotten or replaced. This small number of vengeful spirits should not be confused with those that are simply trying to relay one last, perhaps vital, message to a loved one. Rather, the spiteful spirit will do anything to reclaim his or her former territory, channeling large amounts of electromagnetic energy in an attempt to regain the power of the physical world. Highly charged ions are known to interfere with electronic devices, and clouds of electrons can alter the temperature of the air; scientists have proven this. What modern science has been unable to explain is why sudden, strong pockets of electromagnetism seem to develop out of thin air. Perhaps the air is not as thin as it seems.
With enough practice and motivation, a spirit can summon a quantity of electromagnetism sufficient to scatter paper, knock down books, and create all manner of mischief that generally confuses, befuddles, or frightens the living. There have even been documented reports of “sightings,” in which the image of the deceased appears as real as if he or she were still alive. If you have found yourself on the receiving end of such unwanted interference from a restless spirit, be assured that you are not crazy. Read on for suggestions on how to help this misguided spirit find its way to the other realm.
Abby eagerly clicked on the link to read more. What she learned convinced her that she was not imagining things or overreacting. She sat back in her chair, deep in thought. Then she opened up her e-mail and started typing.
To: Leah601
From: AbbyGirl
Subject: Sorry
Hey Leah,
First, I’m sorry I just disappeared like that. I’m really stressing out. So many weird things have been happening and some of them you don’t even know about. So I’m going to tell you everything. Please hear me out before assuming it’s just my imagination. I wish it was. Because then I could control it and make it STOP.
So right before my party started, I was outside and I had the creepiest feeling that someone was watching me from the woods. And then I got that scary text message in the middle of the night. And my phone was on—not the way I left it when we went to sleep. This afternoon, I had that creepy feeling that someone was watching me again—and I saw a red-haired girl running away from my window! When I got back to my room, my top was NOT where I left it and I found it shredded in my closet. All that stuff is VERY weird. Don’t you agree?
Then things got even scarier. Leah, I got another freaky text message from that same strange number! And this time, I wanted to know who sent it, so that maybe I could stop them from sending another. But when I tried to look the number up online, my computer froze for no reason. Then my room went icy cold. I was terrified. If just one or two of these things happened, I would think it was a coincidence. Or maybe even my imagination. But all of them, together . . . I mean, how could I imagine those texts? Or my top getting ripped up? Those things are completely real, and you can come see them for yourself if you don’t believe me.
I need to make this stop NOW, and I have an idea, but I’d like your help. Can you meet me at school tomorrow morning before class starts? Like, eight a.m.? You are my best friend, Leah. Please help.
<3
Abby
Abby read her e-mail to Leah twice before she took a deep breath and sent it. She didn’t know how Leah would respond, but she also knew that if Leah wouldn’t take her seriously, she’d have to move forward on her own.
No matter how terrifying or dangerous it would be.
CHAPTER 8
Thursday morning dawned cool and cloudy; Abby woke up earlier than usual after a long and restless night. Even with her bedroom door wide open and Chester sleeping peacefully at the foot of her bed, she had tossed and turned, alert to every little noise in the night. When she finally got out of bed just before her alarm went off, Abby stepped over to the window and saw damp mist seeping out of the woods into her backyard. She shivered as she pulled the gauzy curtains back across the window. She knew that she couldn’t be too careful; there was no telling who—or what—might be out there.
Then she walked over to her computer to see if Leah had e-mailed her. By the time Abby went to bed, Leah hadn’t responded, which was so unusual it made Abby even more anxious. Abby didn’t know anyone who was more addicted to the Internet than Leah, so there was no possible way she hadn’t received the e-mail. The only explanation for her lack of response was that Leah was ignoring her.
To Abby’s relief, though, she saw that she had an e-mail waiting from Leah. It was short, but Abby didn’t care.
To: AbbyGirl
From: Leah601
Subject: Re: Sorry
Hey Abby,
Everything is going to be fine. I’ll meet u @ the flagpole. L.
Abby got dressed and grabbed a stack of pages that she’d printed off the Internet the night before. When she went to the kitchen, she found her mom drinking coffee and reading the newspaper at the table.
“Morning, Abby,” Mrs. Miller said. “How did you sleep last night? Was your room warm enough?”
“Uh, yeah,” Abby said as she grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboard. “It was fine.”
“You’re up early today,” Mr. Miller remarked, walking into the room.
“I’m meeting Leah before school,” replied Abby. “We, um, have a project to work on. That reminds me, can she come over after school today?”
“I don’t see why not—as long as it’s okay with her parents,” Mrs. Miller said. “Dad and I are going out to dinner with the Takahashis, remember? So we won’t be here. Do you mind heating up some leftovers for dinner?”
“Sure,” Abby said, grateful that her parents would be out. “Leah and I will mostly be working on that project.”
“Well, we’ll probably be home around eight. Then we can drive Leah home,” Mr. Miller said. “Speaking of rides, do you want me to drive you to school? I’m headed out for work in a few minutes.”
Abby smiled at her dad as she quickly ate her cereal. “That would be great. Thanks, Dad.” When she was finished, she put her bowl in the sink and said, “Okay, I’m off. See you tonight, Mom.”
“Bye, Abby,” Mrs. Miller replied. “Have a good day!”
Abby pulled on her coat and picked up her backpack as her mom went back to the newspaper. Standing in the cozy, cheerful kitchen, it was hard to believe that such scary things had been happening. Abby wished, briefly, that they would just stop on their own. That life would go back to normal.
But she knew that that wasn’t going to happen—unless she did something about it.
During the car ride with her dad, Abby noticed how much emptier the streets and sidewalks were at this early hour. As the car neared the school, she started to feel more and more nervous about meeting up with Leah. What if Leah didn’t want to help her? What if Leah laughed at her plan?
That’s just a risk I have to take, Abby told herself.
The schoolyard was empty when she walked through the heavy black gate, though the lights were already on and she could see teachers arriving in the faculty parking lot. She sat on the round concrete base of the flagpole and glanced up at the cloud-covered sky; overhead, the flag flapped loudly as gusts of wind blew in from the west. Abby glanced at her watch.
Leah was late.
Abby had a sinking feeling that Leah wasn’t going to show up. Maybe she forgot, she thought. Or maybe she was never going to come in the first place. She didn’t know what had happened to make Leah so mad at her, but she really needed her best friend now.
As she waited, Abby’s feet started tapping, then her knees started jumping, until she was suddenly too anxious to sit still for another minute. She stood up and started pacing near the flagpole, watching silently as more students arrived for the school day. Where is Leah? Abby wondered frantically. Has something happened to her? What if Sara’s ghost—
Abby couldn’t finish that thought.
With just five minutes left before homeroom, she had to face the truth: Leah wasn’t coming. For the first time in her life, Abby actually hoped that Leah had blown her off; that would be better than the other possibilities that wouldn’t stop running through her mind. She stood up and was slipping the strap of her backpack over her shoulder when she heard someone call her name.
“Abby!”
It was Leah.
“You’re here!” Abby exclaimed, rushing up to Leah. “I was so afraid! I thought you—”
“I’m fine. I just overslept,” Leah said, her voice full of concern. “You have to relax.”
But Abby noticed that Leah wouldn’t meet her eye. The girls stood there awkwardly for a moment. Then they both spoke at the same time.
“So what do you—,” Leah began.
“Did I do something—,” Abby said.
They exchanged a smile. “You first,” Leah said.
Abby took a deep breath. “Did I do something to upset you?” she asked bluntly. “I don’t know why you were mad at me last night.”
Leah looked away. “Just—it’s not important,” she said. “I read your e-mail.”
“I know,” Abby said quietly. She waited for Leah to continue.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Leah said. “But here’s what I don’t believe in: ghosts. I mean, they’re really creepy and spooky to think about, but they’re not real, Abby. Dead is dead. And Sara is dead. That’s it.”
Abby was silent for a moment. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She scrolled through her most recent text messages and shoved the phone at Leah. “I know Sara’s dead!” Abby cried. “But read this latest message. Just read it!”
Leah’s blue eyes flicked back and forth as she glanced at the screen of Abby’s phone. “So you think this message is about Jake?” she asked.
“Who else would it be about?” Abby asked. “Whoever is sending those messages wants me to stay away from ‘him’ and Jake is the only ‘him’ I’m into. And the only people who know that are you, Chloe, and Nora—and you guys would never do this to me.”
“You’re right about that,” Leah replied.
“So who could it be?” Abby continued. “And what about when my computer froze or the cold air I felt in my room? I’m telling you, after what I read last night, this has to be a ghost.”
Leah sighed. “So what’s your big plan? Assuming that it’s Sara’s ghost, which I just can’t believe. I mean, have you even thought that through? I don’t think ghosts have wireless plans, you know?”
“Look, don’t worry about it,” Abby said. If Leah really couldn’t believe in the possibility of this all being Sara’s ghost, there was no point in her helping. “I’ll figure something out.”
“No, really,” Leah persisted. “I can tell you’re upset, and I want to help, Abby, I really do. And I’m sorry for what I said in the IM last night. I didn’t mean it at all. I don’t even know why I said it.”
The bell rang. Abby looked at Leah. “Come on—we’re going to be late for homeroom.”
“Okay, fine,” Leah gave in. “But if you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will,” Abby replied. “Whoa—was that a raindrop?”
“Let’s go!” Leah exclaimed. As the rain started to fall, the two girls raced toward the school. By the time Abby sat down in her seat for homeroom, she was out of breath and soaked. But not even the drenching rain and the rush to homeroom were enough to make her forget for a second about the strange experiences that had been haunting her.
That evening, as it started to get dark out, Abby put her plan into motion. The website had said that the séance would work better if two or three people were involved, but Abby would just have to make do on her own. Leah just didn’t understand.
In the quiet of her room, she cleared off the top of her dresser and placed a photo of Sara in the very center of it. She surrounded the photo with a circle of softly glowing lights and white rose petals. Sara should still be alive, like me and Jake and Leah, she thought suddenly. She shouldn’t exist only in photos and memories.
