The Summoning Read Free Page A

feeling around the nearest wall and not finding a switch, I gave up. The faint glow of more emergency lights let me see shapes. Good enough.
    Still, it was pretty dark. I’m afraid of the dark. I had some bad experiences as a child, imaginary friends who lurked in dark places and scared me. I know that sounds weird. Other kids dream up playmates—I imagined bogeymen.
    The smell of greasepaint told me I was in the dressing area, but the scent, mingled with the unmistakable odor of mothballs and old costumes, didn’t calm me the way it usually did.
    Three more steps and I did let out a shriek as fabric billowed around me. I’d stumbled into a curtain. Great. Exactly how loud had I screamed? I really hoped these walls were soundproof.
    I swept my hand over the scratchy polyester until I found the opening and parted the curtains. Ahead, I could make out the lunch table. Something yellow sat on the top. My bag?
    The makeshift hall seemed to stretch before me, yawning into darkness. It was the perspective—the two curtained sides angled inward, so the hall narrowed. Interesting illusion, especially for a suspense film. I’d have to remember that.
    Thinking about the corridor as a movie set calmed my nerves. I framed the shot, the bounce of my step adding a jerkiness that would make the scene more immediate, putting the viewer in the head of our protagonist, the foolish girl making her way toward the strange noise.
    Something thumped. I started, and my shoes squeaked and
that
noise made me jump higher. I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms and tried to laugh. Okay, I did say
strange noise
, didn’t I? Cue the sound effects, please.
    Another noise. A rustling. So we had rats in our spooky corridor, did we? How clichéd. Time to turn off my galloping imagination and focus.
Direct
the scene.
    Our protagonist sees something at the end of the corridor. A shadowy figure
—
    Oh, please. Talk about cheap thrills. Go for original … mysterious …
    Take two.
    What’s that she sees
?
A child’s lunch bag, bright yellow and new, out of place in this old, condemned house
.
    Keep the film rolling. Don’t let my mind wander—
    A sob echoed through the silent rooms, then broke off, dissolving into a wet snuffling.
    Crying. Right. From my movie. The protagonist sees a child’s lunch bag, then hears eerie sobs. Something moved at the end of the hall. A dark shape—
    I flung myself forward, racing for my bag. I grabbed it and took off.
     
----

Three
    « ^ »
    “CHLOE! HOLD UP!”
    I’d just dumped my uneaten lunch in my locker and was walking away when Nate hailed me. I turned to see him edging sideways through a group of girls. The bell sounded and the hall erupted, kids jostling like salmon fighting their way upstream, carrying along anything in their path. Nate had to struggle to reach me.
    “You took off from film club before I could grab you. I wanted to ask if you’re going to the dance.”
    “Tomorrow? Um, yeah.”
    He flashed a dimpled grin. “Great. See you there.”
    A swarm of kids engulfed him. I stood there, staring after him. Had Nate just tracked me down to ask if I was going to the dance? It wasn’t the same as asking me
to
the dance, but still… I was definitely going to need to rethink my outfit.
    A senior whacked into me, knocking off my backpack and muttering something about “standing in the middle of the hall.” As I bent to grab my bag, I felt a gush between my legs.
    I snapped upright and stood frozen before taking a tentative step.
    Oh God. Had I actually wet myself? I took a deep breath. Maybe I
was
sick. My stomach had been dancing all day.
    See if you can clean up and if it’s bad, take a cab home
.
    In the bathroom, I pulled down my pants and saw bright red.
    For a couple of minutes, I just sat there, on the toilet, grinning like an idiot and hoping that the rumor about school bathroom cams wasn’t true.
    I balled up toilet paper in my panties, pulled up my jeans, and waddled out of the stall.