by P. J. Night
A glass of clear soda sat on the table in front of the pushed-away chair. Kelly walked over to it. Tiny bubbles popped and floated along the surface of the fizzy lemon-lime liquid. The soda hadn’t gone flat yet, Kelly realized. That meant Chrissie had just poured it. A sugar cookie lay beside the glass, a single bite taken out of it.
“Chrissie?” she called out. “You here?”
No answer.
She shrugged. Chrissie had probably gone to the bathroom or was watching TV with Ryan.
Then her eyes rested on the phone. Chrissie’s cell with its distinctive holographic purple cover sat alongside the cookie. Strange, Kelly thought. She didn’t think Chrissie ever went anywhere without her phone. Even to the bathroom.
She pulled open the refrigerator door and reviewed the contents inside. Same stuff as before. Nothing too good. She reached for the plastic bottle of soda, shut the door, and poured some into a fresh glass. She rested the bottle on the island counter.
The carbonation tickled her throat as she took the first gulp. Glass in hand, she wandered through the archway that led into the back of the family room. Ryan slumped alone on the plush overstuffed sofa, totally immersed in the action on the screen. Two greenish creatures, each with three eyes, circled a lone cow in a meadow. They prodded the animal with some sort of electric device that buzzed on contact. Then there was heated discussion about returning to the ship.
Kelly sighed. Another alien movie. Her brother had a thing for sci-fi. It was all he’d watch or read.
“Hey, spacehead,” she called. “Where’s Chrissie?”
Ryan grunted, barely acknowledging her presence. His eyes remained glued to the action on the screen. The cow was having convulsions.
Figures, she thought. A total TV android. Ryan was impossible to talk to with the TV on. It was as if he inhabited the weird worlds he watched.
“Fine. Be that way. See if I care.” Then she heard it again.
Kelly listened as the eight-note melody repeated. It was louder than it had been upstairs, but it was the same creepy song. The tune reminded her of the music played in horror films—right before the crazy guy leaps out at the innocent girl.
It’s a ringtone, she suddenly realized. And it was coming from the kitchen. She hurried back through the archway toward the noise. Then she chuckled to herself. I’m just like the girls in those horror films, she thought. Running toward the creepy sound. Spencer would find this funny. She couldn’t wait to tell him that she had fallen into the classic scary movie trap. He was really into those old Hitchcock films.
The melody stopped as she entered the kitchen. Chrissie was back—and she was talking on her phone.
She changed her ringtone, Kelly thought. She didn’t particularly like this new one. Too creepy.
Chrissie didn’t notice Kelly. She stood by the kitchen table, wearing navy sweats with her feet bare. Her back was to Kelly. Listening intently to whoever was calling, she stared out the large picture window overlooking the backyard. The outdoor spotlight illuminated the swirling flakes. Large evergreens sagged under the weight of the week’s snow. The yard was an expanse of white. Nobody had been out back since the last snowfall.
Chrissie whispered into her phone. Kelly couldn’t make out all the words, but she sensed that her babysitter was bothered about something. Chrissie remained turned with her shoulders slumped as she whispered somberly. Eyes still focused on the empty yard, she ran her hand along the square-panel window at the top of the back door next to the window. Huge icicles hung from the archway outside the door. “No. No way,” she said into the phone.
Kelly hesitated, about to speak. Then she changed her mind. Chrissie was obviously involved in a private conversation. It didn’t seem right to bother her now about smelling peppermint. Down here in the warmth of the kitchen, the whole spooky-odor thing seemed silly. She drained her glass of soda, placed the empty glass quietly on the counter, and headed to her room.
“Hey, everyone,” she announced into her webcam as she slid into her chair. “I’m back.”
Paige lifted her head and faced her screen. “Finally! That took forever. We’re totally bored. I’m even polishing my toenails.”
Kelly laughed. “Wow, you really must be bored.” Paige was much more the blisters-and-bandages-in-cleats type than the pedicure-ready-for-sandals girl, especially in the middle of winter.
Paige smirked. She raised one foot to the camera. “Look how I’ve botched it.” She wiggled her toes, the blue polish thick and bumpy.
Kelly grimaced. “Maybe you need a redo?”
“Nice of you to join us.” Spencer’s face appeared in the bottom box on her screen. “We’d almost given up on this whole sleepover thing.”
“It was your idea,” Gavin pointed out. He squeezed into the frame with Spencer.
“Sorry,” she said. “My bad.” She watched Gavin toss pieces of popcorn in the air. Spencer bounced up to catch each kernel in his mouth.
“See, no hands!” Spencer grinned, then gulped another airborne kernel. “Party games for the sleepover.”
“Excellent. Maybe we should all make popcorn,” she suggested. She then looked closer at her screen. Paige was battling with the goopy polish brush and the tiny surface of her small toenails. Spencer and Gavin were performing like the seals at Sea World. But June . . . she looked closer. . . . June’s frame was empty.
“June?” she called. “You there?”
June didn’t respond.
“Where’s June?” she asked the others.
Paige lifted her eyes from her botched pedicure. Coloring inside the lines was not her strength. “I don’t know. She was there when I got back from finding the polish. I had to nab it from Chrissie’s room. Don’t tell her.”
“June was there when we returned from the kitchen to get popcorn,” Spencer added.
Kelly shrugged. June probably went to get something too.
As Spencer told a joke, though, her eyes couldn’t stop wandering to the frame where June should have been. Something about it felt wrong. She just didn’t know what.
Spencer was on a roll. “What did the snowman and the vampire name their baby?”
“What?” Paige abandoned the polish, leaving one set of toes in their natural state.
“Frostbite!” Spencer grinned. Everyone else groaned. He’d been telling lame jokes since they were little kids.
“I’ve got one,” Gavin said. “What do ghosts dance to?”
“Soul music.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “That one’s played out.”
Gavin shoved Spencer. Spencer shoved him back. Kelly ignored them. Her eyes returned to June’s screen. What was it? Then it hit her. She didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed it right away. June’s frame had gone completely red.
“What do you guys see when you look at June’s frame on your screen?” she asked her friends.
Everyone stopped talking and joking.
“Weird,” Paige murmured. “It’s all red.”
“Is her room painted red?” Gavin asked.
“No. It’s yellow,” Spencer answered.
“So why are we all seeing red?” Kelly asked. “I mean, shouldn’t we see her vanity chair, since her computer was on her vanity? Or something in her room?”
“Maybe something’s up with her computer,” Spencer ventured. “A weird electrical thing?”
“Did she say where she was going?” Kelly asked.
Paige looked perplexed. “No. It was kind of like one minute she was there and then she wasn’t.”
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed. “One time I looked up and no June. Poof!”
“June?” Kelly called again. “Are you there?”
June’s window on her screen remained red and silent.
“She’ll be back.” Kelly relaxed and watched Spencer do an impression of their earth science teacher. His accent was a little off but still funny. Paige joined in, making them guess which teachers she was mimicking. She had the phys ed teacher’s quirky tics spot-on.
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“You know,” Gavin said after fifteen minutes had passed, “it’s weird that June still hasn’t come back. Shouldn’t we try to find her?”
June’s screen still glowed scarlet.
“She’s fine,” Kelly replied, annoyed that Gavin was telling them what to do. June was their friend, not his.
Nevertheless, she reached for her cell phone and quickly texted June.
She got no response.
“I texted her,” Paige announced. “She’s not texting back.”
“Me too. I’ll call,” Kelly offered. June’s phone rang three times before going to voice mail. “Hey, June, it’s us. Where are you? Come back to your screen or call me. Bye.”
Kelly shrugged to her friends. “I left a message.”
“I think Gavin’s right. It’s weird,” Paige said.
“It is kind of spooky after the whole Miss Mary thing,” Gavin put in.
Kelly laughed. “So you really fell for the bringing-back-the-dead thing?”
“Didn’t you?” he asked seriously.
“No way.” She recalled the peppermint scent but pushed the unsettling thought aside. A coincidence, she figured.
The abrupt slam of a door and then a violent crash thundered through the house, breaking Kelly away from her thoughts.
This wasn’t something she could just block out. Kelly jumped up and raced down the stairs, unsure of what she would find.
CHAPTER 8
“What was that?” she cried, skidding from the foyer into the main entrance of the family room.
Ryan stared at the aliens on the TV, completely engrossed in the movie.
“Did you hear me?” Kelly asked her brother. “Did you hear that noise?”
Ryan didn’t answer. The sofa had molded to his unmoving body the way a worn glove cradles a baseball.
“You’ve got to me kidding me.” She groaned. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not playing your silent game. I can’t believe you didn’t hear that!” She hurried across the room and through the back entrance to the kitchen. Chrissie sat in a ladder-back chair by the table, obsessively twirling a single strand of her blond hair.
“Did you hear that noise?” Kelly demanded.
Chrissie nodded. Twirling, twirling.
Why wasn’t anybody talking? Kelly wondered.
She took a closer look at her babysitter. Still in her navy sweats, Chrissie was now wearing white snow boots. Flecks of wetness dotted their nylon exterior. Her face looked pale, ashen, as if she was worried.
“What’s up?” Kelly pulled out the spindle-back chair next to her and sat.
“The icicles outside the back door fell,” Chrissie said without feeling. The monotone sounded strange coming from her. Kelly was used to her peppy, chirpy voice.
Kelly glanced toward the door. In the glow of the outdoor spotlight, she saw that the row of huge icicles was no longer hanging. That would account for the crashing noise, she realized. But she wondered about the slam. Someone must have slammed the door to cause the icicles to fall so suddenly. They were the thick kind. It would’ve taken a lot of force to smash them to the ground.
“Were you outside?” she asked Chrissie.
“No.” Chrissie stared at a far-off spot on the table as if suddenly interested in the vintage woodwork.
“Really?” she pressed. The snow caked on the treads of Chrissie’s boots was obvious.
“No, I wasn’t.” Chrissie twirled her hair, wrapping a piece tightly around her index finger. She wouldn’t meet Kelly’s gaze.
Chrissie was lying. Kelly could see that. But why? “Someone must have slammed the door,” Kelly began.
Chrissie didn’t saying anything right away. She opened her mouth as if about to, but then seemed to think better of it.
Kelly’s throat felt dry. She swallowed several times. The Chrissie she knew was always bubbly and happy. She didn’t recognize this morose girl sitting next to her. “Are you okay?” she asked gently.
Chrissie nodded slowly.
“Really, if you’re not, you can tell me.” Kelly reached out her hand to touch Chrissie’s arm, but Chrissie shrank back.
“Was that your boyfriend on the phone?” Maybe it’s a breakup thing, Kelly thought. She didn’t have any experience yet with boyfriends, but she’d seen enough TV shows with girls moaning over broken hearts.
Chrissie shook her head. That wasn’t it. Again she seemed about to say something but stopped herself, casting her eyes away from Kelly.
“Seriously. You’re scaring me,” Kelly said in a low voice. The air around them seemed heavy. As if a dark cloud had descended on the kitchen.
“She doesn’t want you downstairs,” Chrissie whispered suddenly.
“What?” Kelly leaned closer.
“She won’t be happy,” Chrissie murmured.
Kelly swallowed hard, trying desperately to wet her throat. “Who?”
Chrissie stayed silent for a few minutes, a shadow of fear clouding her gaze. “You should go back to your room,” she finally said.
What was going on? Who was Chrissie talking about? “I don’t understand.”
“It’s best.”
“What’s best?” Kelly’s voice rose unnaturally.
Chrissie twisted that one chunk of hair so taut, it was in danger of breaking. “Just go. Please.”
Kelly stayed seated for a moment, contemplating her babysitter. Something was definitely wrong. She debated calling her parents. But she knew they couldn’t do anything trapped in the snow except worry. That wasn’t good. She gazed around the kitchen. Nothing looked different. The TV blared from the family room. The wind shook the trees outside, and the snow fell faster. Everything seemed okay—except for Chrissie.
Kelly shrugged. Sitting with Chrissie made her uncomfortable. I’ll just leave her alone, she thought. Let her work it out, whatever it is. Maybe Paige knows what’s wrong with her crazy sister.
“Whatever,” she said, getting up. “I’ll be in my room.”
Chrissie stared at her blankly.
“Okay then.” Kelly couldn’t get back to her room fast enough. She had to talk to her friends. Tell them what was going on.
The preppy plaid of her childhood welcomed her as she entered her bedroom. For the first time in a long time, the pink and green comforted her, gave her that secure, settled feeling. Maybe she wouldn’t press her mom to redecorate.
She stood in front of her desk and gazed at her screen. Her mouth opened in shock.
In the bottom frame, Gavin and Spencer appeared to be having a whispered argument. Gavin’s forehead was furrowed, and his dark eyebrows were drawn together in worry. Spencer’s freckles seemed to darken against his suddenly pale skin.
June’s frame was red and still empty.
And Paige’s frame was now empty too—and filled with the same pulsing crimson color.
“Where’s Paige?” she asked hesitantly.
Gavin and Spencer whirled their heads around to face her. She could see it in their eyes. Something had happened while she was downstairs. Something bad.
“Where’s Paige?” she asked again.
“She’s gone,” Gavin said slowly.
“Gone where?” Her voice again sounded shrill.
“Kel, something freaky is going on. We were talking to Paige, and then, boom, her screen turned bloodred and she was gone. Totally gone. As if she was sucked up by some force,” Spencer babbled nervously. “We tried calling her cell. You know she always has her cell. It just kept ringing and ringing. No voice mail or anything. She won’t answer texts, either.”
“Maybe she just went to the bathroom or another room,” Kelly suggested.
“Both of them?” Gavin asked.
She stared at her screen. Both June and Paige’s frames were a hot, pulsing red. Definitely strange. A seed of dread stirred in the pit of her stomach.
She flipped open her phone and hit Paige’s name in Contacts. She listened to the ringing. Eight times, she counted, before
she hung up. No voice mail. She pushed June’s number. Her phone rang, then clicked to voice mail. She left another message, more urgent than the one before.
Where are they? she wondered. Her fingers drummed her desk. The heater clanked overhead, working to combat the chill of the churning wind.
I NEED U TO TXT ME!!!!!! NOW!! she wrote to Paige.
She watched her screen. Paige always answered texts at lightning speed. They joked about it all the time.
Not now. No text came back.
“Kel, there’s something else.” Spencer leaned toward his webcam. His eyes widened in her monitor.
“Don’t tell her,” Gavin cautioned.
“She should know.” Spencer turned to Gavin.
“I don’t think so. We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Gavin said as if she weren’t listening.
“What shouldn’t I know?” she demanded.
Gavin shot Spencer a warning look, but Spencer ignored him. “While you were gone . . . right after Paige went missing . . . we heard something coming from your room.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whispering. There was the sound of a voice whispering in your room,” he said.
“W-what was it saying?” she stammered.
“We couldn’t be sure. It sounded like . . . like . . .”
“What?” she cried.
“It sounded like ‘Miss Mary, Miss Mary.’”
CHAPTER 9
A sudden chill shook Kelly’s body. She shivered, pulling her hands farther into her sweatshirt sleeves. As the wind moaned through the trees, the branches slapped her window in angry protest.
This sleepover wasn’t turning out as she’d planned. She wished all her friends were here with her. All together in her room, laughing with the lights on. Sitting alone in the dark in the storm was creeping her out. And she didn’t get creeped out. Ever.
“Are you sure?” she asked Gavin and Spencer. She straightened in her chair, trying to shake away her nerves.