Read Online Bad Dreams by R.L. Stine - Free Book Online Page A

Terrible.”
    Her heart pounded hard. “Why—what?”
    The old man searched her face. “The real estate salesman didn’t tell you the story?”
    â€œNo, what story?”
    Mr. Avery frowned. “Well, I guess I can’t blame him for keeping it from you. I mean, Bob Jamison is a pretty honest guy, for a salesman, anyway. But he hadn’t been able to sell this house for months. I guess he figured that if you didn’t ask, he didn’t have to tell.”
    He cleared his throat. His eyes focused on hers, boring into her. They were old eyes, pale gray, but clear and hard.
    â€œListen,” he said hoarsely. “My wife, Claire, would sure love to meet you. A pretty young girl like you would brighten up her morning. She could use that. Why don’t you come on over for a cup of tea, and I’ll tell you the whole story.”
    Maggie glanced up at her house again to see if hermom was watching. But her bedroom window was dark. “That sounds great,” she said.
    Mr. Avery pointed to a break in the hedge. “This way,” he told her. He took off his cap, bowed, and gestured. “After you.”
    Mr. Avery’s house was warm and cozy. There were family photos on the walls—children, grandchildren.
    Mrs. Avery was sitting at the kitchen table, the newspaper folded beside her plate as she worked the daily crossword. She had a round moon face, accentuated by a halo of thin white hair. “I thought you were going to do some gardening, Milton,” she said without looking up.
    â€œI am, Claire,” he said. “But as you can see—”
    Mrs. Avery raised her eyes and smiled warmly.
    â€œThis is our new neighbor,” Mr. Avery explained, placing a hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “Claire, this is Martha—”
    â€œMaggie,” she corrected him.
    â€œMaggie. Sorry. Maggie Travers.”
    Mrs. Avery stood up and smiled broadly. She shuffled over to shake Maggie’s hand. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” she said. “Oh, I’m so glad to meet you. Such a pretty girl. Are those green eyes?”
    â€œYes,” Maggie replied uncomfortably.
    â€œGorgeous,” Mrs. Avery said, nodding her head in admiration. “Oh, it must be nice to be young.”
    It hadn’t been nice this week, that was for sure. “Mr. Avery said he was going to tell me—” Maggie started.
    â€œWould you like some tea?” Mr. Avery interrupted.“And a gingersnap. Do we have any left, Claire?”
    Claire moved to the stove, hefted the kettle to make sure there was water inside, then turned on the burner full blast. “I don’t know,” she said. “Check the cookie jar.”
    Maggie couldn’t wait any longer. “What happened in my house?” she asked bluntly.
    Mrs. Avery gave her a sharp look. “You don’t know?”
    Back to square one again. “No,” she said. “I—”
    â€œMilton,” Mrs. Avery said sharply, narrowing her eyes at her husband. “Are you trying to scare this nice young girl?”
    Maggie felt a trickle of sweat run down between her shoulder blades. So she was right all along. Something awful had happened in that house. She knew it! She wasn’t crazy after all!
    Maggie sat down at the table, trying to stay calm.
    Mr. Avery set his cap down. “Such a sad story,” he muttered.
    â€œPlease, Milton, we didn’t even know the poor people—the Heifers,” Mrs. Avery chimed in. She shuffled back to the stove to lift the whistling kettle. “So many horrible stories on this street …”
    Mr. Avery continued. “There was a girl about your age—named Miranda. Pretty girl with blond hair.”
    Miranda!
    Maggie knew instantly that Miranda had to be the blond girl in her dream!
    â€œDid Miranda live in my house?” Maggie asked eagerly.
    â€œShe and her family lived in your house, yes,” answered