Truth or Dare . . (7 page)

AbbyGirl:
AND SHE WOULD HAVE NOTICED IF CHESTER ATE MY SWEATER.

AbbyGirl:
AND SHE'S BEEN IN THE KITCHEN THIS WHOLE TIME, COOKING DINNER. IT'S NOT POSSIBLE.

Leah601:
THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL U. I MEAN, NO OFFENSE, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE U R TRYING TO FREAK YOURSELF OUT.

AbbyGirl:
WHAT DO U MEAN?

Leah601:
NEVER MIND.

AbbyGirl:
NO, SERIOUSLY, TELL ME WHAT U MEAN.

Leah601:
JUST FORGET IT.

AbbyGirl:
I CAN'T FORGET IT! SOME CRAZY STUFF IS HAPPENING TO ME, AND MY BEST FRIEND IS ACTING LIKE I'M
MAKING IT ALL UP! THX A LOT.

Leah601:
WHAT DO U WANT ME TO SAY? THAT SOME STRANGE GIRL WITH RED HAIR MUST BE STALKING U? THAT SARA'S GHOST IS AFTER U?

Leah601:
IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR U THAT THE GUY U LIKE ASKED U TO THE DANCE, NOW U HAVE TO MAKE UP THIS BIG DRAMA SO U CAN BE THE CENTER OF ATTN?

Abby sat back as suddenly as if she'd been slapped in the face. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read Leah's words again. Then, with quivering fingers, she sent another message back to Leah.

AbbyGirl:
I DIDN'T KNOW U FELT THAT WAY. I WON'T BOTHER U ANYMORE.

Leah601:
ABBY, WAIT. I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT. LET'S TALK ABOUT IT, OKAY?

But Abby didn't want to talk to Leah anymore. With a fast click of her mouse, Abby shut the chat window and stepped away from her computer. Just then her cell phone buzzed.

Leah, give it a rest!
Abby thought angrily as she picked
up her phone. The screen was blinking with a green light to announce that there was a text message waiting for her.

It wasn't from Leah, though. A wrinkle of confusion crossed Abby's forehead as she stared at the phone number. She didn't know whose number it was, but that long combination of digits seemed familiar.

Abby pushed a button so she could read the text. In angry-looking capital letters, the message flashed onto the glowing screen.

I'M WARNING YOU. STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!!! NEXT TIME I WILL DO SOMETHING MUCH WORSE!

As Abby gasped in shock, the phone fell from her fingers; it skidded across the floor until it disappeared under her bed. Another text! After everything that had happened this afternoon, enough was enough. Abby's first instinct was to get to her computer and type the phone number into a search engine to see if she could learn anything about its owner.

She fell into the chair at her desk and tried to type the number into the text box, but her fingers were
shaking so much that she kept hitting the wrong keys. She took a deep breath and tried again.

She hit enter.

But the search didn't go through.

With a frown, she hit enter again, but nothing happened. She tried to move the cursor—but her computer was frozen.

“Oh come
on
!” Abby exclaimed as she slammed the keyboard in frustration. She needed to know what was going on
now
. She didn't have time to waste by restarting her computer.

Maybe I can look the number up on my phone
, Abby thought as her heart sank. She dreaded seeing that scary message again, but she knew that she had no choice. She dropped to her knees and stuck her head under the bed.

The phone, still glowing, was under the exact middle of Abby's bed. She stretched her arm out to grab it, but the phone was just beyond her reach. With a sigh, she lay down on her stomach and crawled under the bed as far as she could, extending her arm as she reached for the phone.

The minute Abby's fingers curled around her phone, the screen went dark. A freezing blast of air surrounded
her; she tried to get out from under the bed but couldn't wiggle free. It was like an unseen hand was holding her down, in the dark, in the cold, and Abby couldn't escape, couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

All she could do was scream!

“ABBY! Abby! What's wrong?” cried Mrs. Miller as she burst into the room, with Mr. Miller and Chester following right behind her.

“Mom!” Abby screamed. “Mom! Help! I can't get out!”

“Honey, honey, calm down,” Mrs. Miller said, and Abby felt the warm, comforting touch of her mother's hand on her back. “Let me see. Your T-shirt is caught on the bed frame, honey. Hold on . . . there. You can get out now.”

Abby shot out from under the bed, blinking back tears of terror and relief. She wiped her eyes with her hands as she exhaled in a long, jagged sigh. Chester gave her a big lick on the face.

“Kiddo! What's going on? You really scared us,” said
Mr. Miller, an expression of concern on his face.

Abby looked at her parents and knew that she needed to tell them everything. “I—I don't know what's happening,” she began. “I was trying to look something up online, but then my computer froze, and my whole room got freezing cold and I couldn't get out from under the bed!”

Mr. Miller walked across the room to Abby's computer. “So this old thing's giving you trouble?” he asked. “I can take a look at it after dinner—but you remember how to restart it, right?”

“Dad! That's not the point,” Abby exclaimed. “All this weird stuff happened at the same time! I went under the bed and it got
so
cold in here—the air was like ice—”

Mrs. Miller reached out and rested her hand against Abby's forehead. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “You don't feel feverish to me.”

“You're not listening—,” Abby began shrilly as she ducked out from under her mom's hand.

“You know, Abby, this is an old house,” Mr. Miller interrupted her as he poked his head under the bed. “There are all sorts of drafts in just about every room. I can see about adding some insulation under the
floorboards before winter comes. That would probably help.”

“Sweetie, what were you doing under the bed in the first place?” asked Mrs. Miller. She and Mr. Miller exchanged a glance, and in their eyes, Abby saw it: that awful look of parental humoring. They thought she was overreacting, like a small child who was afraid of things that go bump in the night.

That was when Abby realized that there was nothing she could say or do that would convince her parents to take her seriously.

So why even bother?

The text messages
, Abby suddenly realized.
I could show them those awful texts
. But then a new thought occurred to her. What if her parents freaked out and took away her phone?

It didn't seem worth the risk.

Abby sighed. “I just . . . I was trying to get my phone. It fell under the bed. It's not important. Forget it.”

“Come on, Abby, let's go eat dinner,” Mrs. Miller suggested. “I've been calling your name for the last five minutes! Didn't you hear me?”

Abby shook her head as she followed her parents
out of the bedroom. She didn't have much appetite, but she was eager—desperate, even—to get out of her room and away from everything that had just happened there.

Bolstered by a good meal and feeling courageous, Abby hurried back to her bedroom after dinner, but she made sure to leave her door open. If Leah and her parents weren't going to take all these strange things seriously, then Abby would have to figure them out by herself.

Abby's computer hummed to life as she restarted it and logged onto the Internet. For once, she didn't bother checking her e-mail or signing into IM. Instead she opened up Google and searched for the phrase “proof of ghosts.”

Dozens of websites flooded the page, promising everything from certified ghost hunters to scary horror movies. But one site in particular caught Abby's eye. She clicked on the link and tapped her fingers impatiently as she waited for the page to load.

When the Paranormal Gets Personal

The only people who can afford not to believe in
ghosts are those who have never been troubled by them. It takes but one encounter with the other world to know that though death waits for us all, the spirit is eternal. Electrical interference, sudden drops in air temperature, unexpected—and unexplained—visions are all calling cards from beyond the grave. Even the most pragmatic disbeliever will find it difficult to explain away all manner of paranormal phenomena, especially when they occur simultaneously.

As she read, Abby started nodding her head. Everything in the article sounded very familiar.

For most spirits, the journey to the other side is an easy one; the gentle letting go of the earthly life is simply part of the natural cycle of being. But some spirits are unprepared for death and find it impossible to tear themselves away from their earthly concerns. This is especially true for those who have suffered untimely death; instead of accepting that their lives were cut short, these spirits long for more—more time with their friends, more time with their families, more time with their
loved ones. They are overcome by the sense that they have been cheated of their due; the drive to live becomes like a drug, addictive and intoxicating. With all their strength, these spirits resist the pull of the beyond, desperate to cling to the lives they once lived.

Abby felt a chill run down her spine. She hugged herself tight and glanced at her bedroom door to make sure it was still open . . . just in case.

Sadly for these spirits, there is no going back; once the life force has been extinguished, they find themselves nearly powerless in the earthly realm, unable to be seen or heard (in most cases). This virtual invisibility grows increasingly painful for them, especially as they see their loved ones move through the stages of grief and eventually begin to resume their lives. With a sad and silent farewell, many reluctant spirits will, at this point, resolve to pass over; it is simply too painful for them to watch life from the sidelines.

But some spirits find themselves enraged by these developments, especially if they think
that they are being forgotten or replaced. This small number of vengeful spirits should not be confused with those that are simply trying to relay one last, perhaps vital, message to a loved one. Rather, the spiteful spirit will do anything to reclaim his or her former territory, channeling large amounts of electromagnetic energy in an attempt to regain the power of the physical world. Highly charged ions are known to interfere with electronic devices, and clouds of electrons can alter the temperature of the air; scientists have proven this. What modern science has been unable to explain is why sudden, strong pockets of electromagnetism seem to develop out of thin air. Perhaps the air is not as thin as it seems.

With enough practice and motivation, a spirit can summon a quantity of electromagnetism sufficient to scatter paper, knock down books, and create all manner of mischief that generally confuses, befuddles, or frightens the living. There have even been documented reports of “sightings,” in which the image of the deceased appears as real as if he or she were still alive. If you have found yourself on the receiving end of such unwanted interference
from a restless spirit, be assured that you are not crazy. Read on for suggestions on how to help this misguided spirit find its way to the other realm.

Abby eagerly clicked on the link to read more. What she learned convinced her that she was not imagining things or overreacting. She sat back in her chair, deep in thought. Then she opened up her e-mail and started typing.

To:
Leah601

From:
AbbyGirl

Subject:
Sorry

Hey Leah,

First, I'm sorry I just disappeared like that. I'm really stressing out. So many weird things have been happening and some of them you don't even know about. So I'm going to tell you everything. Please hear me out before assuming it's just my imagination. I wish it was. Because then I could control it and make it STOP.

So right before my party started, I was outside and I had the creepiest feeling that someone was watching me from the woods. And then I got that scary text message in
the middle of the night. And my phone was on—not the way I left it when we went to sleep. This afternoon, I had that creepy feeling that someone was watching me again—and I saw a red-haired girl running away from my window! When I got back to my room, my top was NOT where I left it and I found it shredded in my closet. All that stuff is VERY weird. Don't you agree?