Diary of the Gone Read Free Page A

took a ballpoint pen, well chewed at
the top, and turned several dog-eared pages filled with the same
illegible handwriting where I used to put down all the horror I’d
seen.
    When I was about to jot my first word,
a blast of wind rattled the windowpanes, startling me out of my
wits.
    Damn, what was
that?
    With a trembling
hand, I scribbled: Entry #153, October
27 .
    Someone knocked on the door, and I
knew they had come for me. It wasn’t Mom or Beverly as there was no
shadow under the door. A soft, hardly audible tap-tap-tap came,
then the door knob turned a bit.
    Why have they come so
early?
    Freaked out, I focused on the diary,
trying to shut off my senses.
     
    They are here again,
behind the door, trying to get in. It’s not like them. Why are they
breaking the rules?
     
    The wind whistled outside, the
rattling of the windowpanes even more persistent. I bent closer to
the page, scribbling frantically.
     
    Nathan found a corpse of a
deer in the forest. He showed it to me today. When we were standing
there everything turned to monochrome gray, and I saw a boy not far
from me. He had strange symbols appearing over his hands. I have no
idea what they meant. The Shadow was different this time. So much
different.
     
    They didn’t go away. Writing about it
didn’t work. Why? Whoever was behind the door started scraping its
surface with nails that were definitely larger than Bev’s. I
clenched my teeth and pressed my hands to my ears, but the scraping
didn’t stop.
    Go on writing,
Callum, I told myself. Only the words
didn’t come easily tonight.
     
    The boy was looking at me.
He wanted to tell me something. What does it mean? Does it mean
that Greg Thornby is dead?
     
    As if answering the question, the
scraping and the wind stopped. A chill slithered over my body, my
heart thumping in total silence.
    “ Callum,” a voice I’d
never heard called, coming from inside my head. “Callum, let me
in.”
    I pressed myself into the corner of
the bed, awaiting my doom.
    Please, leave me
alone, was my next line. Then the door
burst open, and consciousness dimmed. Just as my mind slowly
drifted into welcoming blackness, I saw a silhouette advancing on
me. It wasn’t Greg. It was a girl, only I couldn’t see her face,
her features blurry in the dark, her long hair streaming down to
her waist.
    She came close to me and laid her bony
hand on my shoulder, whispering, “Thank you for setting me
free.”
     

Chapter 3
     
    Entry #28
    May 26
     
    I don’t know why Shadows
haunt me. Why me of all people? If it’s a gift, then it’s a lousy
one.
     
     
    When I woke up, the first thing I did
was check my ankle. It was giving me more and more trouble. The
flesh was bruised to a purple color, with skin sore to the touch.
The memory of yesterday’s experience combined with the deep, purple
traces creeped the hell out of me.
    “ Callie, breakfast’s
ready!” Mom screeched from below. Whatever horrors I’d gone through
yesterday night, ‘Callie’ sent me into motion—I loathed when people
called me that, mostly because Stan Crosby loved taunting me with
it.
    “ Coming!” I yelled, grabbing the diary from the bed. Should I take it to school today? What if I see another Shadow on the
way?
    I opened it where I’d put my last
entry, took a pen and started scribbling hastily.
     
    Entry #154
    October 28
     
    The dead started talking
to me. This time it was a girl. I have no idea what’s going on
here.
     
    “ Callie! Hurry up!” Mom
shouted from the kitchen.
    “ Coming!” I yelled, even
louder that time, then bent my head to the page to jot down a few
more sentences.
     
    Mom’s calling me. I’m off
to school. Hope I’m not going to see more of the dead
today.
     
    Bev entered my room,
and I barely had enough time to shut the diary and hide it behind
my back. “We’re not going to wait on you forever, Callie ,” she said with a
sly smile.
    Damn, she saw
it! I cursed, not really sure what to do
next.
    Bev flashed a