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Haunting,
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Young Adult Fiction,
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information.
Finding Wynâs blogâwell, that was an amazing coincidence, but she was just a girl, an American girl, who happened to have Welsh family, and â¦
No. Stop it . This was the problem. He just kept going round and round in circles. No, from now on, he was only going to think about programming and his animation project, and reasonable everyday normalâ
It started as a tingle in his toes. Gareth looked down, surprised, and shifted his feet as if theyâd fallen asleep.
But it didnât stop there. The odd tingling began to spread, on up his spine and into his head, which began feeling light and strange as if it were lifting off from his body. He leaned back against the kitchen doorframe, his skin prickling. The room started going dim, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to faint.
But apparently not, because after everything went dark, images suddenly appeared, as if on a screen in his mindâs eye. With mounting horror, Gareth realized that he was in his own memory, back in Wales, walking along the grass clifftop overlooking the sea. A part of him noted distantly that he must have fallen asleep on his feet, but it was a very small part, and then it disappeared entirely as dream-images flickered past: A lonely cairn of stones. The grave plaque. And then he was standing in front of the cromlech, its huge boulders looming overhead, its yawning cavernous opening descending into darkness. He approached the hole and peered in.
Then he was inside. Black night surrounded him on all sides, but in front of him was a girl. Olwen. He started, bumping his head on the unseen rocky ceiling. The jabbing pain made his eyes fly open.
He was in the kitchen. He was home. He was leaning against the doorframe.
And his mum had turned from her potato-scrubbing and was peering at him from across the room with a frown. âDid you just fall asleep?â
Gareth swallowed, his throat dry, and felt his head start to throb. âEr. I suppose. Long day,â he tried to explain.
âYouâre looking a little peaked lately. Are you sure youâre not ill?â She set the potatoes in the sink and came over to him, putting a hand on his forehead. He pulled away.
âIâm okay,â he said. âJust tired.â
âIf youâre tired enough to fall asleep standing up, youâd better have a lie-down before dinner,â his mum told him in a no-nonsense tone. âIâll send Tommy to wake you up.â
âNo! I mean, no, I donât need a nap.â Gareth tried not to let his fear show. âIâll be fine tomorrow. I just didnât sleep well is all.â
âIf youâre sure,â his mother said, still frowning.
âIâm sure,â he echoed. But he really wasnât, not at all.
The next morning, Gareth woke late. The first thing he did was reach for his phone and check his email.
Nothing.
8
Coeliaân llaiâr glust naâr golwg.
Believe the ear
less than the eye.
Welsh proverb
I was lying in bed reading, not quite ready to get up yet, when I heard the ping of a chat notification on my laptop. Probably Rae. Or Bethany, if she was somehow awake before 11 a.m. on a Saturday. I took a minute to throw on appropriate weekend attireâdark gray sweatsâand brush my hair into a ponytail before checking the computer.
LewzerBoy: wyn? itâs me, gareth
I drew in a rapid breath. This was happening. Right now . In my head, I didnât feel prepared, but my fingers were already tapping at the keys.
OlwenNia: Oh, wow! I just have a minute.
Sorry I didnât answer your email yet
LewzerBoy: np
LewzerBoy: it was so weird that i found yr website
OlwenNia: That *was* weird. I never thought anyone was reading it. Iâm a little embarrassed
LewzerBoy: not embarrassing
yr a good writer
OlwenNia: Thanks. :) It hasnât been that great lately, though. I havenât been getting enough sleep, I guess.
LewzerBoy: