I found him staring at me intently.
âAre you a sound sleeper?â he asked.
âExcuse me?â His question took me by surprise.
âAre you a sound sleeper or are you a light sleeper?â he demanded.
âUhâ¦a sound sleeper, I guess.â
He studied me for another moment. Then he grabbed the curtain and pulled it shut.
âIâm tired now,â he said coldly.
Â
I didnât think Iâd ever get to sleep. Nurses were talking out in the hall, and I heard a girl coughing and coughing in a room nearby. But to my surprise I drifted quickly into a deep sleep.
I had a lot of strange dreams.
In one dream I was being chased down a long, green hall by someone I couldnât see. In another dream my dog was bigger than me. He carried me around in his teeth. Then I turned into a grinning jack-oâ-lantern and rolled away.
But in my most vivid dream I was in the hospital. I saw a boy at the foot of my bed. He held two clipboards with charts in his hand. I could read the name on the top of only one chart: MARTIN CHARLES .
The boy hung that chart on my hospital bed. Then, smiling, he crept away, carrying the other chart under his arm.
When I awoke, I wasnât sure if I was still dreaming or not.
Two men in white lab coats stood beside my bed. They wheeled a long cart up to me.
One of them picked up the chart from the end of my bed. âThis is him,â he told his partner.
âHuh?â I gazed up at them, still half asleep. What is happening? I wondered.
They picked me up gently and slid me onto the cart.
âEasy does it, Martin,â one of them said, untangling my arm from the bedsheet.
âNo--wait--â I choked out. I tried to sit up. âIâm not Martin!â
One of them held me down. The other checked the chart again, reading the name out loud: âMartin Charles.â
âLetâs go,â his partner said.
They wheeled me to the door.
âNo--stop!â I screamed. âIâm not Martin! Really! Youâre making a big mistake! He--heâs Martin!â I pointed back to the room.
They pushed the cart down the empty hall. The wheels clattered loudly over the tile floor.
âThey warned us youâd say that,â the taller one said. âThey said youâve been lying about your name since you arrived.â
âThey told us just to ignore you,â his partner added.
âBut Iâm not Martin!â I screamed at the top of my lungs.âPlease--youâve got to listen! Iâm not Martin! Iâm not Martin! Iâm not Martin! â
They pushed the cart into the open elevator.
Way down the hall Martin poked his head out of our room. He waved good-bye, a big grin on his face.
Then the elevator doors shut behind me.
The Black Mask
INTRODUCTION
ILLUSTRATED BY MARK SUMMERS
Y ou canât get to sleep. You lie awake and stare at the ceiling. Your heart pounds. Your hands are cold and clammy. Shivering, you climb out of bed. You begin to pace back and forth. Your mind spins.
Iâve had many nights like that. Havenât you?
You know that something terrible is going to happen. You donât just feel it--you can see it in your mind. You have to do something. But what?
You have so little time. And no one to turn to. No help is on the way. Youâre powerless. Youâre terrifiedâ¦.
Good.
Hold that feeling. Youâre ready for this story. Youâre ready to put on The Black Maskâ¦.
A fter my family moved into our new house, my friends started hanging out in my basement. The basement is a huge, cluttered mess with piles of stuff left over from the old owners. But Dad had fixed a corner of it up like a rec room.
Weâve got a Ping-Pong table down there, and a little refrigerator filled with sodas, and a TV where I hooked up my video game player.
Most afternoons youâll find Bill, Julie, Valerie, and me down there.
Bill is a big, blond, freckle-faced guy. He works
âAre you a sound sleeper?â he asked.
âExcuse me?â His question took me by surprise.
âAre you a sound sleeper or are you a light sleeper?â he demanded.
âUhâ¦a sound sleeper, I guess.â
He studied me for another moment. Then he grabbed the curtain and pulled it shut.
âIâm tired now,â he said coldly.
Â
I didnât think Iâd ever get to sleep. Nurses were talking out in the hall, and I heard a girl coughing and coughing in a room nearby. But to my surprise I drifted quickly into a deep sleep.
I had a lot of strange dreams.
In one dream I was being chased down a long, green hall by someone I couldnât see. In another dream my dog was bigger than me. He carried me around in his teeth. Then I turned into a grinning jack-oâ-lantern and rolled away.
But in my most vivid dream I was in the hospital. I saw a boy at the foot of my bed. He held two clipboards with charts in his hand. I could read the name on the top of only one chart: MARTIN CHARLES .
The boy hung that chart on my hospital bed. Then, smiling, he crept away, carrying the other chart under his arm.
When I awoke, I wasnât sure if I was still dreaming or not.
Two men in white lab coats stood beside my bed. They wheeled a long cart up to me.
One of them picked up the chart from the end of my bed. âThis is him,â he told his partner.
âHuh?â I gazed up at them, still half asleep. What is happening? I wondered.
They picked me up gently and slid me onto the cart.
âEasy does it, Martin,â one of them said, untangling my arm from the bedsheet.
âNo--wait--â I choked out. I tried to sit up. âIâm not Martin!â
One of them held me down. The other checked the chart again, reading the name out loud: âMartin Charles.â
âLetâs go,â his partner said.
They wheeled me to the door.
âNo--stop!â I screamed. âIâm not Martin! Really! Youâre making a big mistake! He--heâs Martin!â I pointed back to the room.
They pushed the cart down the empty hall. The wheels clattered loudly over the tile floor.
âThey warned us youâd say that,â the taller one said. âThey said youâve been lying about your name since you arrived.â
âThey told us just to ignore you,â his partner added.
âBut Iâm not Martin!â I screamed at the top of my lungs.âPlease--youâve got to listen! Iâm not Martin! Iâm not Martin! Iâm not Martin! â
They pushed the cart into the open elevator.
Way down the hall Martin poked his head out of our room. He waved good-bye, a big grin on his face.
Then the elevator doors shut behind me.
The Black Mask
INTRODUCTION
ILLUSTRATED BY MARK SUMMERS
Y ou canât get to sleep. You lie awake and stare at the ceiling. Your heart pounds. Your hands are cold and clammy. Shivering, you climb out of bed. You begin to pace back and forth. Your mind spins.
Iâve had many nights like that. Havenât you?
You know that something terrible is going to happen. You donât just feel it--you can see it in your mind. You have to do something. But what?
You have so little time. And no one to turn to. No help is on the way. Youâre powerless. Youâre terrifiedâ¦.
Good.
Hold that feeling. Youâre ready for this story. Youâre ready to put on The Black Maskâ¦.
A fter my family moved into our new house, my friends started hanging out in my basement. The basement is a huge, cluttered mess with piles of stuff left over from the old owners. But Dad had fixed a corner of it up like a rec room.
Weâve got a Ping-Pong table down there, and a little refrigerator filled with sodas, and a TV where I hooked up my video game player.
Most afternoons youâll find Bill, Julie, Valerie, and me down there.
Bill is a big, blond, freckle-faced guy. He works
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