The Psychozone by David Lubar

room.
    That night, she tried not to hear the skritch from below. It’s just a parrot, she told herself.
    Skritch.
    It can’t hurt me.
    Skritch.
    It’s only a stupid bird.
    Skritch.
    â€œIt can’t do anything to me,” Karen whispered. “It can’t even get out of the—”
    Click.
    Karen jumped from her bed and rushed across the room to shut her door. Whiskers, who’d been asleep on her blankets, looked up, let out a “Mrewww,” then dashed past her feet and out into the hallway.
    â€œStop,” Karen called. She raced after her cat. She heard the light pat—pat of paws running down the stairs. She followed Whiskers into the living room. The cage was still covered. Karen lifted the blanket.
    The door was unlatched. The cage was empty.
    â€œKill you now,” Safari promised from somewhere overhead.

    Karen heard a flap and flutter. She ducked. Safari shot past her face. Karen stumbled into the couch and grabbed a pillow. The parrot was swooping toward her again. She swung but missed as the bird darted to the side then shot back toward her head. A claw slashed at her eyes.
    The bird flew past, then turned and attacked again. Karen threw the pillow. It hit the bird. Safari fluttered to the carpet. For an instant, the bird didn’t move. Then it rose and attacked her again. Karen tried to dodge. She stumbled, took a couple of steps, then tripped over the pillow.
    She fell hard, headfirst, then rolled to her back. Above, the bird was diving straight at her. She swung her arms and braced for the ripping pain of the claws and beak.
    A flash of black flew across her vision, brushing her face. Whiskers hit the parrot from the side. His jaws clamped on the neck of the bird.
    Karen shivered as she heard a sharp crunch. Whiskers dropped the parrot on the carpet.
    â€œI can’t let you get in trouble,” Karen said. She had to put the bird back in the cage. She couldn’t let her dad think that Whiskers had done this. But she couldn’t bear the thought of touching the body.
    Karen saw the blanket on the cage. She took it off and dropped it over the bird. She grabbed the lump beneath the coarse wool cloth. It was awful, but she thought she could do it, if she did it quickly.
    Karen went to the cage and managed to get the
body of the bird back inside without touching it. She closed the latch and put the blanket in place.
    â€œCome on,” Karen said to Whiskers. She returned to her room and shut the door, then crawled under the covers. Whiskers jumped to the foot of the bed.
    â€œIt’s over,” Karen whispered.
    Her cat licked his left front paw.
    â€œYou’re my favorite,” she told him. “You always were.”
    Whiskers cocked his head slightly, as if amused, and stared at Karen with one eye.
    â€œKitty?” Karen said. She scrunched back against her pillows. “Pretty kitty …”
    Whiskers opened his mouth and hissed.

JOIN THE PARTY
    D an wished Saturday didn’t exist. The school week was bad enough. But the existence of Saturday meant the existence of Saturday night. That’s when Dan really felt it most. Walking through town, hearing other kids having fun, enjoying parties or playing games or just hanging out and talking, Dan felt like he was on the wrong side of a glass barrier.
    Usually, he stayed home and watched television or read a book. Sometimes, he went for a walk. This Saturday, as spring ended and the airwaves filled with summer reruns, Dan decided to go out. The moment he opened the door, he heard laughing and shouting. One house away, at the Emersons’, kids were playing in the pool.
    It should be easy, Dan thought. All he had to do was walk up to Nicky Emerson and say hi and
start talking. That’s all. They’d been neighbors for years, but they never did anything together. That’s the way it was. Dan didn’t know why. Most of the time, he didn’t even really mind. At least, not