Read Online In The Falling Light by John L. Campbell - Free Book Online

that had been the end of everything. No Power Pack, no
cute boys wanting to talk to her, no more teachers being nice to
her. She was a pariah, a word which wouldn’t appear until high
school English.
    And Emily couldn’t get rid of her.
    Miranda waited for her on her walk to
school, insisting on following her. She came around at recess, and
wanted to sit with her at lunch time, and even showed up on the
weekends when Emily was playing in the neighborhood. The troll-girl
with her cheap Wal-Mart shoes always found her and wanted to talk
to her.
    And that was the biggest problem of all.
    Miranda was crazy.
    The things she talked about…lighting little
fires and melting doll faces with matches, and killing a cat she
had lured into her back yard with a can of tuna. Emily wasn’t sure
that one was true at first, but the more crazy things Miranda said,
the more she believed. The bigger girl said she heard people
talking to her, people that weren’t there. Lately, Miranda had been
saying worse things, things that scared her and made her sick to
her stomach and feel like she wanted to cry. And Emily had come to
another realization.
    Miranda wasn’t just crazy.
    Miranda was dangerous.
    “Hey,” she whispered, close to Emily’s ear.
“Brittney said if I took a knife and cut myself, peanut butter
would come out. Is that true?”
    Emily ignored her.
    “I think if I cut Brittney’s throat, Pez
would come out. She eats enough of them. Do you think so?”
    Emily struggled not to hear, to listen
instead to Miss Crane.
    The girl grunted “Pez,” and chuckled.
    Then there was a long silence, and Emily
sighed, thinking she might get some relief, some distance from
Miranda, a rare thing indeed. In order to keep away from her, she’d
found herself running home from school each day, taking different
routes, dodging through yards and peeking around fences like a
soldier in a war movie. Sometimes it worked. And sometimes she felt
a small measure of victory and felt good about being so clever, but
usually she just felt tired, drained. Most people did not think
children could feel stress, real stress. They were
wrong.
    Miranda leaned forward again, her breath hot
and smelling like cheese crackers. “I took a knife from Mommy’s
kitchen.”
    Emily stopped writing, stopped listening to
Miss Crane.
    “The next time my baby brother Leo starts
crying, I’m gonna push it into his tummy. I think he’s full of
spaghetti-o’s.”
    Emily bolted to her feet, knocking her
textbook to the floor, spinning to face the girl and clamping her
hands to her ears. “Shut-up-shut-up-shut-up!”
    “Miss Green!” the teacher yelled,
slapping her lesson plan onto her desk and striding up the row.
“You know we don’t tolerate outbursts in class.”
    Emily was crying and started stomping her
feet. “It’s her , Miss Crane! She won’t leave me alone!” She
pointed at Miranda, who was staring down at her textbook as if she
was innocent, one finger sneaking towards a nostril. “I hate you!”
Emily screamed, wanting to slap her and pull her hair until she
cried. Miss Crane snatched her by the upper arm and marched her
through the class, and as she was pulled along Emily saw the
shocked looks, the smiles, the whispering, the faces. A moment
later she was alone in the hall with her teacher, who pressed her
against a wall with both hands on her shoulders.
    Miss Crane seemed out of breath and rattled,
looking as upset as Emily felt. “Now you’re going to stand here
until I come get you, and you’re going to calm yourself down.” She
straightened and took a deep breath, smoothing her hair back, her
hands trembling just the slightest, then gave Emily a stern look
before pushing back into the classroom.
    Alone in the hall, Emily’s crying soon
stopped as she stared at the bulletin board on the far wall,
bordered by green and blue twists of crepe paper with a blue
background. A large school of multi-color construction paper fish
covered it, and Emily