Read Online The Boy in the Cemetery by Sebastian Gregory - Free Book Online Page B

large windows looking out to the rest of the school. This way the students on the ground could be easily observed. At lunchtime the school was packed with grey uniforms and by this time the story of Carrie Anne’s ordeal had spread through her school year and beyond. There was a mass of amused of faces, glancing and staring and laughing at the new girl. All of a sudden her crippling self-doubt returned as the noise of the school rose and to Carrie Anne became unbearable. Her thoughts were confused and the mixture of voices made it difficult to concentrate. She fought to stop her twitching leg from moving but it twitched worse than ever. The only clear voice in her head was her own. “Run,” it said. And she stood defiantly, gripped her schoolbag around her shoulder for comfort and fast-walked herself from the headmaster’s corridor and out into the schoolyard. She could feel the other students watching and judging. “Freak,” they said. “Oh my God, what is she doing?” Some just stood in her way, willing her to react. She ignored them, keeping her eyes to her feet and walked through the open gate of the school and into the grey streets under the grey sky.
    After wandering, a little lost, she came across the black river that ran through the streets. It was a huge dark thing with banks a mile apart. A green metal fence ran the length of the river. And a dirt path allowed hikers to walk by. There were still indications of the river’s history. The riverbank was a concrete dock with rusted metal posts. This was broken by defiant patches of grass, shrubs and weeds bursting through. Carrie Anne stood on the edge and stared into that black swirling abyss. Reeds in the water swayed as if beckoning her to join them. To take one step and let the cold running water soothe her, take her breath and her troubles away. She took a step forwards and closed her eyes. The smell of rotting vegetation filled her senses.
    “Do it then, bitch, jump,” said the voice of Sarah Miller.
    Before Carrie Anne could react, the Miller cousins were already face to face with her, Sarah Miller’s foul smoky breath choking her. Michael Miller stood behind Carrie Anne, making escape impossible. She was too aware of his body pushed into hers. He slowly and deliberately stripped her schoolbag from her shoulder and with a grunt launched it into the river. As it disappeared Michael held his arms in the air in triumph. “What a frickin’ throw.”
    Carrie didn’t give a second thought to its loss. She was relieved that his body was not pressed against hers. She was, however, absolutely terrified at what was happening. She had no idea, maybe naively, that they would be waiting for her. The other burdens in her life had distracted her.
    “Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?” Carrie Anne asked, her voice carrying no conviction at all.
    “I could make up a reason if you like,” Sarah Miller replied. “ I could say it because of you I’ve been suspended and now I’m going to have to do a couple of months in an offenders’ institute. Or I could say it’s because you walked in to the right place at the right time. But the truth is I don’t really care about either of those things.”
    Sarah Miller gripped Carrie Anne’s hair and pulled it so hard that a few stands snappend in clumps and otherscame loose Carrie Anne on held on to Sarah’s hands through pain and fear she would be scalped. She gritted her teeth against the white hot pain in her skull.
    “The real reason is this: I like it. It makes me feel good to hurt others. I like it.”
    But before Sarah could carry on, an old man with a small dog walked by.
    “What’s happening here? What are you doing?”
    Sarah Miller loosened her grip.
    “Frick off, old man,” Michael Miller warned.
    The three stood by the bank of the river. And Carrie Anne did not waste the distraction. Through sheer self-preservation and terror she pushed at Sarah Miller as hard as she could. There