Read Online The Dead Girls of Hysteria Hall by Katie Alender - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Alender
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was no sign of her …
Except that someone had opened the door.
“Thank you, thank you , wherever you are!” I called over my shoulder. “Good-bye!”
I reached the car just as Mom was getting into the backseat next to Janie.
Not willing to chance being left behind, I threw myself in next to them.
I landed hard, at first not sure what was happening—all I could make out was darkness. But when I stood up, I realized that I had somehow gone through the car. I was partly inside it with my family, but my feet were still on the ground, and my head was up above the roof.
I tried to sit. I couldn’t. I fell to the ground, landing painfully on a tailbone I didn’t even have.
Uncle James turned to the backseat and said, “Ready?”
Mom nodded, then started to weep into her hands. Janie buried her head in Mom’s sleeve as the engine started up.
The car moved away, first filling my body with a strange scraping sensation and then leaving me seated on the driveway.
“What?” I said. “No, wait! Wait for me!”
The car jolted down the gravel path, and I started to run, thinking I’d never catch up—but after a moment, I felt the same lost, slippery sensation that had come over me when I’d been waiting for my parents on the couch. And then, suddenly—
The car stopped.
Relief overwhelmed me, as well as the comforting idea that they must have sensed their daughter’s ghost running behind them like a crazy person. I still didn’t know exactly how to get myself into the car, but if I had a couple of minutes, I was sure I would figure it out.
Then I noticed a new sensation—a weird, almost dragging pressure against my legs. When I looked down, a dirty fog seemed to hover off the ground. I could feel it like sandpaper, going through my body.
No, the fog wasn’t just hovering; there was a kind of slow movement within it. I saw a larger particle on a downward course and knelt to study it. Up close, I realized that it wasn’t fog at all. The large particles were gravel from the driveway, and the grit against my skin was dust and dirt kicked up in the car’s wake. Speaking of the car, when I turned back to it, I found that it had moved away from me—not very far, maybe a foot—but definitely out of my reach, where before it had been an easy arm’s length.
For a second, I was totally flummoxed by the fact that the car and gravel both seemed to be moving in ultraslow motion. Then I sort of understood.
Now that I was dead, time was unpredictable. Sometimes it would slide ahead and leave me stuck in a distant moment—like when I had completely missed my family coming back into the house to get their things. And sometimes it would skid to a halt and send me pitching forward in fast motion when the rest of the world was practically at a standstill. Like now.
I glanced back at the house, cursing myself for rejecting Eliza’s offer to teach me more about interacting with the world. Should I risk going back to find her and begging for help? What if time sped up again and I came back outside to find the dust settled, the driveway empty, and my family gone?
I couldn’t chance it. I walked back to the car, tried to step inside, and walked right through the metal frame. Then I stepped out and tried again.
But over and over, I got the same results. Finally, I walked back to stand in the shade of a leafy tree and watched the car. They’d gone about fifty feet in what felt to me like an hour. At this rate, they wouldn’t reach the end of the driveway for at least another day, so it seemed safe to take a little break.
And then a guy materialized beside me.
I was so shocked I almost screamed—and he didn’t look any less surprised to see me.
He backed a few feet away, his posture formal. He must have been near my age—probably a year or two older—and his skin was dark brown, his hair neatly cut close to his head. His eyes had the golden-flecked luster of rain on a bed of fallen autumn leaves.
He was obviously a
Except that someone had opened the door.
“Thank you, thank you , wherever you are!” I called over my shoulder. “Good-bye!”
I reached the car just as Mom was getting into the backseat next to Janie.
Not willing to chance being left behind, I threw myself in next to them.
I landed hard, at first not sure what was happening—all I could make out was darkness. But when I stood up, I realized that I had somehow gone through the car. I was partly inside it with my family, but my feet were still on the ground, and my head was up above the roof.
I tried to sit. I couldn’t. I fell to the ground, landing painfully on a tailbone I didn’t even have.
Uncle James turned to the backseat and said, “Ready?”
Mom nodded, then started to weep into her hands. Janie buried her head in Mom’s sleeve as the engine started up.
The car moved away, first filling my body with a strange scraping sensation and then leaving me seated on the driveway.
“What?” I said. “No, wait! Wait for me!”
The car jolted down the gravel path, and I started to run, thinking I’d never catch up—but after a moment, I felt the same lost, slippery sensation that had come over me when I’d been waiting for my parents on the couch. And then, suddenly—
The car stopped.
Relief overwhelmed me, as well as the comforting idea that they must have sensed their daughter’s ghost running behind them like a crazy person. I still didn’t know exactly how to get myself into the car, but if I had a couple of minutes, I was sure I would figure it out.
Then I noticed a new sensation—a weird, almost dragging pressure against my legs. When I looked down, a dirty fog seemed to hover off the ground. I could feel it like sandpaper, going through my body.
No, the fog wasn’t just hovering; there was a kind of slow movement within it. I saw a larger particle on a downward course and knelt to study it. Up close, I realized that it wasn’t fog at all. The large particles were gravel from the driveway, and the grit against my skin was dust and dirt kicked up in the car’s wake. Speaking of the car, when I turned back to it, I found that it had moved away from me—not very far, maybe a foot—but definitely out of my reach, where before it had been an easy arm’s length.
For a second, I was totally flummoxed by the fact that the car and gravel both seemed to be moving in ultraslow motion. Then I sort of understood.
Now that I was dead, time was unpredictable. Sometimes it would slide ahead and leave me stuck in a distant moment—like when I had completely missed my family coming back into the house to get their things. And sometimes it would skid to a halt and send me pitching forward in fast motion when the rest of the world was practically at a standstill. Like now.
I glanced back at the house, cursing myself for rejecting Eliza’s offer to teach me more about interacting with the world. Should I risk going back to find her and begging for help? What if time sped up again and I came back outside to find the dust settled, the driveway empty, and my family gone?
I couldn’t chance it. I walked back to the car, tried to step inside, and walked right through the metal frame. Then I stepped out and tried again.
But over and over, I got the same results. Finally, I walked back to stand in the shade of a leafy tree and watched the car. They’d gone about fifty feet in what felt to me like an hour. At this rate, they wouldn’t reach the end of the driveway for at least another day, so it seemed safe to take a little break.
And then a guy materialized beside me.
I was so shocked I almost screamed—and he didn’t look any less surprised to see me.
He backed a few feet away, his posture formal. He must have been near my age—probably a year or two older—and his skin was dark brown, his hair neatly cut close to his head. His eyes had the golden-flecked luster of rain on a bed of fallen autumn leaves.
He was obviously a
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