Read Online The Form of Things Unknown by Robin Bridges - Free Book Online Page B

I’m sorry.” My heart is pounding.
    â€œThe notebooks are gone,” Grandma says, climbing down off the chair. She sinks down on the bed and lets out a sob.
    â€œThey might still be there,” I say. “I need something long to poke under the bed so I can push everything out.”
    Mom goes back downstairs and comes right back with a broom. I get back down on my hands and knees and sweep under the bed with the broom. A pile of junk is pushed out from the foot of the bed.
    Grandma jumps up. “Get out!” she yells at Mom. She doesn’t want her to see her precious stash. “You, too!” she says, getting in my face as I stand up. I try to take a peek at the stuff I’ve rescued from under the bed. There’s a notebook in that junk after all. “Now, please,” she says, but not politely.
    I grip the broom tightly, not because I think I need to hit her with it, but because I worry she’ll snatch it away from me. “Okay, I’m leaving.”
    I follow Mom into the hall and the door slams shut behind me. Neither of us speak as we escape downstairs to the kitchen.
    Mom takes the broom from me and puts it away before giving me a hug. I’m shaking from the confrontation. We cling to each other in the kitchen, and I promise myself I will never, ever, ever forget to take my medicine. I can’t do that to my family.
    Except I don’t think I took my pill tonight, but I did have alcohol and I can’t mix them, can I? Also, I don’t want Mom to see me and realize I forgot to take it earlier.
    Dad comes in and when he sees us holding each other like war orphans, he stops. “Is it that bad today?” he asks, half-joking.
    Mom glares at him, ready to take her frustrations out on him. I grab a banana and a Dr Pepper from the fridge and retreat to the stairs. I am tired of all the fighting today. I don’t need to be here for this battle.
    â€œWhere the hell have you been?” she asks quietly, but with ice in her voice.
    â€œWorking late.”
    â€œShe won’t bathe and she’s attacked both me and Natalie tonight because she thinks we took her damn notebooks.”
    Dad sighs and I hear him set his laptop down on the kitchen table. “I don’t know what you think I can do.”
    â€œYou can be here for dinner, for starters.”
    â€œI told you I was working late. There was a three-car wreck with multiple traumas. I couldn’t just leave.”
    I reach the attic and blink back tears as I close my door. Tonight would be a good night for Grandma to blast Beatles’ songs on her stereo. She’s probably listening to my parents fight, though. Does it make her happy? Does she feel any guilt for the upheaval she causes in this house? I was mortified when I realized how much I had scared my parents.
    I don’t even want the banana or the drink anymore. I get ready for bed, sneak to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror.
    I’m looking for my own crazy, hiding right beneath the surface of my skin. I see heavy shadows under my eyes, but everything else appears normal. With a tiny sense of relief, I sneak back to my room before anyone sees me.
    I sink down onto my bed, suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted. It’s past midnight, and the séance seems like it was days ago. I pray I’m too tired to have any nightmares tonight. I don’t want to dream about ghosts in the theater. Or Grandma’s angry face. But most of all, I don’t want to dream about being locked up at Winter Oaks again.
    Tomorrow, I’ll be sure to take my medicine.

CHAPTER 8
    I wake up to the sound of Grandma, singing in the shower about Maxwell’s silver hammer having a close encounter with her head. Loudly.
    At least it’s not off-key. I shudder and throw a robe on before going downstairs to the kitchen. Mom is making cupcakes. Dad has already left for work.
    I pour myself a glass of orange juice and