Read Online Remember Me by Christopher Pike - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christopher Pike
Tags: Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, supernatural, Ghost Stories, Horror & Ghost Stories, Ghosts, Ghost, Body; Mind & Spirit
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played.
Beth went to speak next. She was a broken record. I remembered that was what I had gotten her for her birthday, a Beatles album from the discount bin.
I could remember the party. I knew I was still at it; I hadn't disappeared into the ozone. I knew everything that was happening and that it was only a game.
Yet a portion of me, a huge portion, continued to fall, deeper and deeper, down through the earth to where it hid its most terrible secrets. They could have already lowered me into my grave and covered me over with dirt.
Beth couldn't speak. Some kind of entity must have crawled inside her and bit her tongue while she lay on the cold floor. Jo spoke instead. She sounded sad.
"She was my best friend. She was more important to me than anything. I used to tell her everything, and now she's gone. I can't believe it."
Jo had to pause to collect herself. Yet she, too, seemed far away. I felt that if I were to reach out to touch her, I would snatch only thin air.
"But she's still alive to me, because I won't forget her,' Jo continued, her voice gaining strength. "None of those who have died is really gone. They're always near, speaking to us in whispers we don't ordinarily hear. But occasionally we can hear them, if they find someone to speak through."
Jo paused again. She might have cleared her throat. Or I might have cleared my own. I couldn't tell what was happening. I had stopped falling finally, but I doubted if I would be coming up for air soon. Something strange was happening, stranger than all that had previously transpired.
Maybe it was a delayed reaction to discovering I was now an ex-girlfriend.
Perhaps it had something to do with Jo's suggestions.
Then again, it could have been one final omen.
When Jo spoke next, a weight of sorrow heavy enough to crush the world descended on me from nowhere and everywhere at once. I felt it on top of my chest, crunching my ribs, my heart.
"Who are you?" Jo asked.
My voice sounded. But it was not mine. It was not me.
"Most people would probably call me a ghost," the voice said. "I am, after all, dead. But I don't think of myself that way. It wasn't so long ago that I was alive, you see. I was only eighteen. I had my whole life in front of me...."
Someone gasped. Someone else cried out a name—Peter.
More cries followed. Everyone was talking at once. The candle had been knocked over.
There was a danger of fire.
I snapped out of my trance. At last my body was my own again. For a moment.
I threw off my blanket and jumped up.
At first, I couldn't see a thing. I wasn't even sure if I had my eyes open. The room was pitch black. Then Jeff turned on the lamp near the sofa, and the glare hit me like a hot flare. Jeff was mad at me. They all were.
"Why did you stop?" he demanded.
"You shouldn't have jumped up," Jo said.
"You were faking that," Daniel said.
I wasn't a fake, I wanted to shout at them. But I couldn't get out a word. I was too choked up. When I looked around at their faces, I couldn't find a trace of a thing I had assumed had been with me all the days of my life to one degree or another. There was no love. Daniel just wanted to be back in the tub with Beth.
Jo just wanted to be alone with Jeff. I hung my head low, smelling smoke.
Amanda was on the floor at my knees, turning the toppled candle upright. The red wax on the carpet was blood red and still hot. But my body was cold; I was shivering. I felt so overcome with loneliness right then that I thought I would be consumed and die of it.
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her clear, cold gray eyes holding mine.
"Nothing," I whispered. "It's nothing."
I ran from the room then, through the kitchen and out onto the balcony and into the night.
I remember standing by the rail, feeling the smooth wood beneath my shaking fingers. I remember seeing the flat black ocean and thinking how nice it would be if I could only exercise my magical powers and fly over to it and disappear
Beth went to speak next. She was a broken record. I remembered that was what I had gotten her for her birthday, a Beatles album from the discount bin.
I could remember the party. I knew I was still at it; I hadn't disappeared into the ozone. I knew everything that was happening and that it was only a game.
Yet a portion of me, a huge portion, continued to fall, deeper and deeper, down through the earth to where it hid its most terrible secrets. They could have already lowered me into my grave and covered me over with dirt.
Beth couldn't speak. Some kind of entity must have crawled inside her and bit her tongue while she lay on the cold floor. Jo spoke instead. She sounded sad.
"She was my best friend. She was more important to me than anything. I used to tell her everything, and now she's gone. I can't believe it."
Jo had to pause to collect herself. Yet she, too, seemed far away. I felt that if I were to reach out to touch her, I would snatch only thin air.
"But she's still alive to me, because I won't forget her,' Jo continued, her voice gaining strength. "None of those who have died is really gone. They're always near, speaking to us in whispers we don't ordinarily hear. But occasionally we can hear them, if they find someone to speak through."
Jo paused again. She might have cleared her throat. Or I might have cleared my own. I couldn't tell what was happening. I had stopped falling finally, but I doubted if I would be coming up for air soon. Something strange was happening, stranger than all that had previously transpired.
Maybe it was a delayed reaction to discovering I was now an ex-girlfriend.
Perhaps it had something to do with Jo's suggestions.
Then again, it could have been one final omen.
When Jo spoke next, a weight of sorrow heavy enough to crush the world descended on me from nowhere and everywhere at once. I felt it on top of my chest, crunching my ribs, my heart.
"Who are you?" Jo asked.
My voice sounded. But it was not mine. It was not me.
"Most people would probably call me a ghost," the voice said. "I am, after all, dead. But I don't think of myself that way. It wasn't so long ago that I was alive, you see. I was only eighteen. I had my whole life in front of me...."
Someone gasped. Someone else cried out a name—Peter.
More cries followed. Everyone was talking at once. The candle had been knocked over.
There was a danger of fire.
I snapped out of my trance. At last my body was my own again. For a moment.
I threw off my blanket and jumped up.
At first, I couldn't see a thing. I wasn't even sure if I had my eyes open. The room was pitch black. Then Jeff turned on the lamp near the sofa, and the glare hit me like a hot flare. Jeff was mad at me. They all were.
"Why did you stop?" he demanded.
"You shouldn't have jumped up," Jo said.
"You were faking that," Daniel said.
I wasn't a fake, I wanted to shout at them. But I couldn't get out a word. I was too choked up. When I looked around at their faces, I couldn't find a trace of a thing I had assumed had been with me all the days of my life to one degree or another. There was no love. Daniel just wanted to be back in the tub with Beth.
Jo just wanted to be alone with Jeff. I hung my head low, smelling smoke.
Amanda was on the floor at my knees, turning the toppled candle upright. The red wax on the carpet was blood red and still hot. But my body was cold; I was shivering. I felt so overcome with loneliness right then that I thought I would be consumed and die of it.
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her clear, cold gray eyes holding mine.
"Nothing," I whispered. "It's nothing."
I ran from the room then, through the kitchen and out onto the balcony and into the night.
I remember standing by the rail, feeling the smooth wood beneath my shaking fingers. I remember seeing the flat black ocean and thinking how nice it would be if I could only exercise my magical powers and fly over to it and disappear
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