would know it was her fault that heâd died.
Boys fall out of trees, right? Accidents happen. Everybody believed her at the time.
But why had she been chasing the little boy? Was it Bobby who had stolen the jewel from his mother? Was the old witch-thing still trying to get it back, even when she was a ghost haunting the same house as Bobby?
Suddenly a sound outside the room blotted out my thoughts.
Something was scratching at my door.
I held my breath and concentrated on seeing in the dark. Fear was all around meâa cold tingling all over my body.
The knob was turning! The door began to open.
Maybe itâs my mom, checking up on me, I thought hopefully.
A foul smell invaded the room.
Not Mom.
I dove out of bed and rolled underneath.
24
I peeked out and couldnât see a thing. But I could hear it. Something had come into my room. I could hear it wheezing.
Under the bed probably wasnât the best place to hide. Too obvious. But too late nowâI couldnât move without giving myself away.
Heavy breathing. The rustle of old clothing. The invisible thing was coming closer.
Peering into the darkness, I tried to follow the sounds. Who was it and what did they want with me?
Then I got another whiff of that foul stench. Only the witch-thing smelled like that.
The ghost of a child killer was in the room with me!
I peeked out from under the bed and saw the bottom part of her black cloak trailing along the floor. That was the rustling noise.
The cloak moved back and forth across the room.
Suddenly I knew what it wanted. The trunk. The dead creature had come to take back the trunk!
The old trunk was stored in my closet. But the papers and letters Iâd found inside it were someplace even safer.
Under my pillow.
What a goon! What had I been thinkingâthat was the most obvious place. And if the foul creature found the letters, sheâd find me hiding under the bed!
I had to do something, and fast.
The door to my closet creaked open.
The witch cackled with satisfaction as she fumbled with the trunk latch. The lid creaked open.
This was it! The only chance Iâd have.
I slid out from under the bed and snaked my hand up over the side, feeling for my pillow. My hand found the letters. I snatched them and quickly ducked back under the bed.
â Nooooo! â
The witch hissed with fury. Had she seen me?
Her black cloak crackled. Her breath rattled, filling the room with its putrid stink. Her sticklike arm shot out angrily, sweeping across the top of my bureau. Books and airplane models clattered to the floor.
â Iâll get you, you little brat, â she croaked.
I scrambled farther under the bed until my back was against the wall and clutched the papers to my chest.
Footsteps approached the bed.
I tried to shrink myself smaller.
Suddenly the bed was lifted off the floor as the creature let out another angry bellow. She flung the mattress against the wall and it slid back down. I was still hidden.
The dead thing grunted as she bent to look under the bed. I held my breath, trying not to shake so hard.
I knew she had me.
I flattened myself against the wall.
Screeee ⦠screeeee â¦
Her claws scraped the floor an inch from my face.
25
Scrunching my eyes shut, I waited for her claw to shoot out and snag me. I tried to think of a way to get out of this but my brain was in slow motion.
Iâll kick and scream, I thought. Maybe Mom and Dad would hear me.
Her garbagey breath was suffocating. My skin crawled as I waited for her to grab me.
But nothing happened.
Then I heard soft, evil laughter, moving away. As if the witch had thought of something worse than grabbing me.
My bedroom door closed softly.
She was gone.
I counted to a hundred to be sure and then crawled out from under the bed, a queasy feeling stirring in my stomach.
I should have been relieved. I had won, hadnât I? At least for now.
But the old witch-thing was up to something. Her
Boys fall out of trees, right? Accidents happen. Everybody believed her at the time.
But why had she been chasing the little boy? Was it Bobby who had stolen the jewel from his mother? Was the old witch-thing still trying to get it back, even when she was a ghost haunting the same house as Bobby?
Suddenly a sound outside the room blotted out my thoughts.
Something was scratching at my door.
I held my breath and concentrated on seeing in the dark. Fear was all around meâa cold tingling all over my body.
The knob was turning! The door began to open.
Maybe itâs my mom, checking up on me, I thought hopefully.
A foul smell invaded the room.
Not Mom.
I dove out of bed and rolled underneath.
24
I peeked out and couldnât see a thing. But I could hear it. Something had come into my room. I could hear it wheezing.
Under the bed probably wasnât the best place to hide. Too obvious. But too late nowâI couldnât move without giving myself away.
Heavy breathing. The rustle of old clothing. The invisible thing was coming closer.
Peering into the darkness, I tried to follow the sounds. Who was it and what did they want with me?
Then I got another whiff of that foul stench. Only the witch-thing smelled like that.
The ghost of a child killer was in the room with me!
I peeked out from under the bed and saw the bottom part of her black cloak trailing along the floor. That was the rustling noise.
The cloak moved back and forth across the room.
Suddenly I knew what it wanted. The trunk. The dead creature had come to take back the trunk!
The old trunk was stored in my closet. But the papers and letters Iâd found inside it were someplace even safer.
Under my pillow.
What a goon! What had I been thinkingâthat was the most obvious place. And if the foul creature found the letters, sheâd find me hiding under the bed!
I had to do something, and fast.
The door to my closet creaked open.
The witch cackled with satisfaction as she fumbled with the trunk latch. The lid creaked open.
This was it! The only chance Iâd have.
I slid out from under the bed and snaked my hand up over the side, feeling for my pillow. My hand found the letters. I snatched them and quickly ducked back under the bed.
â Nooooo! â
The witch hissed with fury. Had she seen me?
Her black cloak crackled. Her breath rattled, filling the room with its putrid stink. Her sticklike arm shot out angrily, sweeping across the top of my bureau. Books and airplane models clattered to the floor.
â Iâll get you, you little brat, â she croaked.
I scrambled farther under the bed until my back was against the wall and clutched the papers to my chest.
Footsteps approached the bed.
I tried to shrink myself smaller.
Suddenly the bed was lifted off the floor as the creature let out another angry bellow. She flung the mattress against the wall and it slid back down. I was still hidden.
The dead thing grunted as she bent to look under the bed. I held my breath, trying not to shake so hard.
I knew she had me.
I flattened myself against the wall.
Screeee ⦠screeeee â¦
Her claws scraped the floor an inch from my face.
25
Scrunching my eyes shut, I waited for her claw to shoot out and snag me. I tried to think of a way to get out of this but my brain was in slow motion.
Iâll kick and scream, I thought. Maybe Mom and Dad would hear me.
Her garbagey breath was suffocating. My skin crawled as I waited for her to grab me.
But nothing happened.
Then I heard soft, evil laughter, moving away. As if the witch had thought of something worse than grabbing me.
My bedroom door closed softly.
She was gone.
I counted to a hundred to be sure and then crawled out from under the bed, a queasy feeling stirring in my stomach.
I should have been relieved. I had won, hadnât I? At least for now.
But the old witch-thing was up to something. Her
Similar Books
