by R. L. Stine
“I want to give Miss Gold a card,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I raced downstairs to the gift shop and bought a get-well card. I signed my name and took it back up to Miss Gold’s ward. I held it up to the nurse.
“Fine. I’ll see she gets it.” The nurse didn’t even look up. She was busy filling out a form.
“Please give it to her now,” I insisted. “It’s important.”
The nurse lifted her head and glared at me. She snatched up the card and stormed down the hallway. I watched carefully to see which room she went into.
It was the last room on the left. I noticed an exit door at the end of the hall.
I’ll bet there’s a stairwell behind that door, I thought.
I hurried back downstairs. I strode down the hall as if I knew where I was going. As if I belonged there.
Nobody stopped me.
At the end of the hall stood an exit door. Just like the one outside Miss Gold’s room. I opened it and sneaked up the stairs.
On the next floor I carefully cracked open the door. The nurse was marching back to her station.
The coast was clear.
I slipped out of the stairwell. I darted across the hall and through the last door on the left.
Miss Gold lay quietly on the bed. The room was dimly lit—the curtains were closed.
I shut the door behind me. Miss Gold turned her head.
“Beth,” she said weakly. She waved the card I’d just bought and added, “Thank you.”
I slowly approached the bed. Miss Gold looked terrible. I remembered how her eyes used to be so sparkly and blue. But now they looked gray and dead.
“Miss Gold,” I began. “What happened to you?”
She stared up at me. Now her eyes were blank.
“Last night—at the gym—” I prompted her. “Why did you do it?”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t know, Beth. I can’t explain it.”
“But—did you do everything?” I asked. “The writing on the chalkboard? Smashing up the art room? Everything?”
She blinked her eyes open. “I—I suppose I did.” She didn’t seem too sure. “I can hardly believe it myself.”
I twisted the black ring on my finger. “I found something of yours outside the gym. I brought it for you.”
I held up my left hand. The black ring sparkled.
Miss Gold’s face twisted in shock. “Beth—no! What are you doing with that?”
“I told you—I found it …”
She grabbed my hand and desperately tugged at the ring. “Take it off! Take it off right now!” she ordered. She pulled so hard, my finger throbbed with pain.
“I can’t!” I cried. “I was hoping you could help me!”
She yanked on the ring as hard as she could. At last she let her hands drop helplessly into her lap.
“Get that thing away from me!” she rasped. “Get it away! And get it off your finger as soon as you can! I’m warning you!”
I began to shake. “Miss Gold, please—”
“Get out now!” she demanded. “I can’t help you. Just get rid of that ring!”
Trembling, I staggered out of the room. I slipped down the staircase and ran outside into the bright spring sunshine.
I jumped on my bike and pedaled home as fast as I could. “Get rid of the ring! Get rid of the ring!” I chanted to myself as I rode.
I dumped my bike in the garage and flew into the house. “Get rid of the ring,” I told myself. “Get rid of the ring.”
I stopped in the kitchen, panting. The ring caught the light and flashed.
I gazed at the black jewel.
The face stared out at me. Its eyes seemed to drill into mine.
I couldn’t take my eyes off that face. I couldn’t tear myself away from that deep stare.
A calm feeling began to sweep over me. It’s okay, I thought. Everything is okay. There’s nothing to worry about.
I relaxed as the calmness washed over me.
I feel so much better now, I realized. So much happier and calmer.
What a beautiful ring.
“Remember, Beth—you promised.”
Amanda and I were walking to school. It was Monday morning, a few days after the carnival. Amanda was back to her usual pesty self.
“Yes, I remember,” I said. “I promise I’ll help you arrange your stupid Barbies tonight.”
Amanda scowled. “Don’t call them stupid! I won’t let you help if you call them that.”
“I don’t want to help you, stupid,” I snapped.
I paused. The words sounded funny to me.
I’d never called Amanda stupid before. Strange.
“I’ll only play with you if you let me name them,” I went on. “I’ll call them Dopey, Airhead, Space Case, Brainless …”
“But one of my Barbies is a doctor!” Amanda protested. “You can’t call her Brainless!”
“Okay, I won’t. I’ll call her Doctor Dumb-Dumb.”
Amanda fumed as we plodded down the street.
We were just passing Danny’s house when he appeared. “Hey, Beth—wait up!” he called.
“Hi, Danny,” Amanda cooed, making goo-goo eyes at him. I kicked her in the shin.
“Ow!” she protested. But it worked. It shut her up.
“I wonder what school will be like today,” Danny said to me. “I mean, after what happened at the carnival.” He paused.
“I guess we’ll have a substitute teacher for a while,” I said.
“Did you hear about the bike-a-thon?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“It’s for charity,” he explained. “You get sponsors, and you have to ride ten miles. It’s this Saturday. Want to do it with me?”
“Definitely!” I exclaimed.
He finally asked me to do something outside of school!
“Great!” Danny said. “I’ve got an extra entry form in my backpack. I’ll give it to you when we get to school.”
Suddenly I heard the squeal of bike brakes behind me. Before I could turn around, something bumped me hard.
“Ow!” I cried. I spun around. “Anthony!”
“Whoops. Sorry.” Anthony didn’t look sorry at all. He was grinning behind his dark, expensive sunglasses.
He bumped into me on purpose! I realized. “Grow up, Anthony!” I cried angrily. “You’re not funny.”
“Who says?” Anthony replied. “I think I’m hilarious.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, Anthony—are you doing the bike-a-thon this Saturday?” Danny asked.
“No way,” Anthony replied. “Why would I want to bike ten miles?”
“I’m biking in it,” I told him.
“You would,” he snapped. “You’re such a goody-goody.”
Amanda snickered. I kicked her in the shin again.
She shut up. I ought to do that more often, I thought.
“Here’s your school, Amanda.” We stopped at the elementary school. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Remember—the Barbies!” she called as she ran into the building.
“You still play with Barbies?” Anthony teased. “I knew you were babyish, but—”
I felt my face get hot. Why did Anthony have to be so mean to me? Especially in front of Danny?
“Baby Bethy, the goody-goody,” Anthony taunted.
I stole a glance at Danny. He ran a few steps ahead and kicked a rock into the street.
Two blocks later we arrived at school. Anthony rode around to the side of the building and parked his bike. He and Danny started inside.
“You guys go ahead,” I told them. “I’m going to wait for Tina. I told her I’d meet her out front.”
“Okay. See you.”
The first bell rang. I hurried around to the side of the school building.
Anthony’s bike, green and shiny, glistened in the sunlight.
He sure loves that bike, I thought.
Too bad.
I
felt a surge of power shoot through my body.
I grabbed the chain that locked the bike and ripped it off. I tore it into pieces and tossed them to the ground.
I had no idea I was so strong! I thought. It’s almost as if I have superpowers!
I yanked off the front wheel and bent it in half. Then I crushed the back wheel.
I left the mangled bike where I’d found it.
Wait until Anthony sees that, I thought gleefully.
And he thought I was a goody-goody.
I glanced back at the wrecked bike as I headed to the door.
I can’t believe I did that, I thought.
I’ve never felt so strong. I actually bent the wheel of a bike!
How did I do it? I asked myself. How?
The second bell rang. I hurried into the school building.
Kids were just filing in when I reached the classroom. A short, bald man with glasses and a bow tie sat behind the desk. On the chalkboard behind him he’d written his name—MR. CHARLES.
He patted a strand of hair over his bald spot. Then he straightened his bow tie. Oh, great, I thought. He looks like loads of fun.
I dropped my books on my desk. I noticed Anthony’s sunglasses lying on his desk across the room.
He must have gone to his locker, I realized.
I crossed the room and snatched up the sunglasses. I glanced around.
No one was watching.
I stashed the glasses in my pocket. Then I grabbed my history textbook. It was the heaviest book I had.
And I headed for the bathroom.
I checked under the stalls to see if anybody was in there. The bathroom was empty.
I placed the sunglasses on the windowsill. With one quick BANG! I smashed the book down on them.
And crushed them to bits. The cracking sound made me laugh.
I brushed the broken pieces into my hand and carried them back to the classroom. Anthony hadn’t returned to his desk yet.
I took another look around. Nobody watching.
I sprinkled the tiny pieces of plastic and glass on top of Anthony’s desk.
Maybe you won’t feel so cool without your shades, huh, Anthony? I thought, snickering.
A few minutes later, Anthony returned to the classroom. He stared curiously at the strange pile on his desk.
He fingered a few of the pieces. Then his jaw dropped.
“Who did this?” he demanded. He threw accusing glances at the kids sitting around him. “Who broke my shades?”
The other kids shrugged. “Didn’t you see anything?” he asked. “Didn’t you see who did it?” He glared at David Kelly, who sat behind him.
“I didn’t do it,” David insisted.
“Young man, take your seat please.” Mr. Charles stood at the front of the room with a roll book.
“Somebody smashed my sunglasses!” Anthony wailed. “I want to know who did it!”
“You can worry about that after class,” Mr. Charles said. “Now, please sit down.”
Anthony grumbled as he dropped into his seat. He scowled at everyone around him.
Everyone but me, of course. He never thought I was the one who broke his sunglasses. Not for a minute.
Not goody-goody Beth.
It felt good, being bad. I’d never done anything so bad before in my life.
And suddenly, I liked it.
At recess, I roamed the halls, looking for trouble. It was warm and sunny, and almost everybody was outside.
Then I saw him. A fifth grader I didn’t even know.
He was a small kid with greasy dark hair. His locker was open, and he was putting away some books.
I didn’t even think about what I was going to do. I just did it.
I rushed at the boy and shoved him into his locker.
“Hey!” he yelped. “Stop—”
I slammed the door shut. He banged on it, screaming, “Stop it! Let me out! Let me out of here!”
I smiled to myself. Then I locked him inside.
I walked away and left him there.
I could hear him pounding and screaming as I strolled down the hall. It gave me a little thrill.
That was fun, I thought. Now on to the lunchroom.
I stood in line, waiting to fill up a tray with the usual cafeteria food. Then I noticed something near the door of the kitchen.
A mouse?
Yes. A mouse.
The mouse squeezed under the door and scampered into the kitchen. I pushed open the door and followed it in.
The kitchen workers were all busy serving the kids. I sneaked past them and into the huge pantry in back.
Aha. I spotted the mouse hiding behind a sack of rice in the corner. Quick as a cat, I scooped up the mouse before it even had a chance to squeak!
This is amazing, I thought. I’ve never been so quick before.
I sneaked back out to the cafeteria.
I’ll bet this mouse is hungry, I thought. Maybe it would like a little soup.
When no one was looking, I dropped the mouse into a vat of vegetable soup.
“Eat up, kids!” I whispered.
I grabbed a tray and slowly moved through the line, waiting to see what would happen.
Tina Crowley and two of her friends entered the line.
First victims, I thought happily.
The lunch lady dipped her ladle into the vat of soup. She spooned it into a bowl and handed it to Tina.
Tina zipped through the line and sat down with her friends. I followed and perched nearby.
I watched Tina dip her spoon in the soup and bring it to her lips.
The mouse popped his head up and squeaked.
Tina’s scream shook the walls.
I laughed.
The mouse squeaked again and did a brea//roke across the soup bowl.
Tina screamed again. Her friends dropped their trays and ran from the lunchroom, shrieking their heads off.
The whole room was in a panic. Dripping with soup, the mouse leaped off the table and scampered across the floor. Everybody looked so funny. The ladies who served the food were shrieking and swatting at the mouse.
Kids dropped their lunches and ran screaming out of the lunchroom.
Now I understand, I thought, as I watched the whole school turn upside down.
Now I know why Anthony is always doing mean things to people.
Because it’s so much fun!
The house was empty when I got home that afternoon. Mom was at work.
Where’s Amanda? I wondered. Then I remembered. She had a soccer game that afternoon.
So nobody’s home, I thought, glancing around for something to do. Hmmm …
I think I’ll go up to Amanda’s room, I decided. I promised to help her arrange her Barbies, didn’t I?
The Barbies lay in a tangled heap on Amanda’s bed. These dolls really do need arranging, I thought. Maybe I should get started now.
Amanda will be so surprised when she gets home.
I picked up the first Barbie and examined it. This must be the Surfer Barbie, I realized.
“You won’t be doing much surfing from now on, Surfer Barbie,” I said.
I snapped one of her legs off. Then the other.
CRACK, CRACK. They made such a cool sound as I broke them off.
Then I tore off her arms. CRACK, CRACK.
I tossed the doll on the floor and picked up the next one. “You must be the Doctor Barbie,” I said. “Okay, Doctor Barbie —see if you can heal this!”
CRACK, CRACK.
I love that sound, I thought. I ripped the arms and legs off every single doll.
CRACK, CRACK.
And I laughed the whole time.
“Mom!” Amanda’s screams rang through the house. “Mom! Look what happened!”
I lay on my bed in my room, listening. Mom raced into Amanda’s room. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Look!” Amanda shouted. “Somebody—” She started to sob. “So-somebody broke all my Barbies!”
I heard Mom gasp. “I—I don’t know how …”
Amanda barged into my room. “Beth!” she demanded. “You did it! Why? Why did you do this to me?”
I sat up. “Me? I didn’t do it!” I lied. “I never touched your Barbies!”
Mom appeared behind her. “Beth—that’s not like you! Why would you do such a thing?”
“I told you!” I insisted. “I didn’t do it! Really!”
Mom frowned.
“Then who did?” Amanda shrieked. “You were the only one here!” She sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Mom’s eyes locked on mine. I knew she thought I broke Amanda’s dolls. But at the same time, Mom couldn’t believe I would do something like that.
She led Amanda away. “Come on, honey,” she soothed. “Let’s see if we can put them back together.”
They returned to Amanda’s room. I lay back against my pillows.
Why did I do that? I wondered. Why did I break Amanda’s dolls?
I remembered doing it. I remembered doing lots of bad things that day. But I didn’t know why.
Amanda sobbed in the next room. I heard Mom trying to comfort her.
I suddenly felt terrible. My whole body began to tremble.
What’s happening to me? I wondered. I broke Anthony’s bike and sunglasses. I put a mouse in Tina’s soup.
I even locked a little kid in his locker! For no reason! I didn’t even know him.
And then I ruined my sister’s Barbies. All in one day.
What happened to me? I used to be so nice.
The black ring flashed on my finger.
The ring, I thought, gazing at it. Of course. The ring.
The ghostly face inside smiled out at me. I thought I saw it wink.
Somehow it’s making me do evil things! I thought. Just like Miss Gold.
I shuddered.
This is just the beginning, I realized.
I remembered how nice Miss Gold once was.
But by the night of the carnival, she had completely changed.
She had supernatural powers. She tried to kill people! She tried to kill everyone in that gym!
My stomach knotted up. I felt sick.
What am I going to do?
How can I stop it?
I gripped the ring and tried to rip it off my finger. “Off!” I cried. “I’ve got to get it off!”
The evil face glared out at me.
It was as if he could read my thoughts—and I could read his.