The Haunted Boy

By Martin Hall

Jon is being bullied at his new school. His mother and his teachers, don't understand, of course. Then, he meets Terry. Terry understands, after all, he's been there before, literally. What can you do to bullies when you have a ghost to help?
An ideal, spooky read for children as a first chapter book. The themes are timeless, but the book is for today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Martin Hall
• Release date: Apr 12, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476270678

Martin Hall

Professor Martin Hall is Chair of Jisc, and Vice Chancellor of the University of Salford, UK. A British-South African academic and educationalist he has written extensively on South African history, culture and higher education policy. Professor Hall was a member of the Working Group on the Finch Committee which examined Open Access policy in the UK.

Book preview

The Haunted Boy

Martin Hall

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Martin Hall

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the permission in writing of the publisher. Nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Contents

Monday (Maths)

Monday (Home Time)

Tuesday (Art)

Tuesday (Lunch Time)

Wednesday (Games)

Thursday (Break)

Friday (Home Time)

Friday (Night)

Saturday (Morning)

Saturday (Afternoon)

Sunday (Morning)

The Haunted Boy

Monday (Maths)

Jon didn't want to go to school. He said so, every morning.

Come on, Jonathan, his mum said. You know I've talked to the headmaster and your form teacher. Mr Shaw says that he's not going to let them bully you again.

That was all right for her to say, thought Jon. But there was only so far a teacher could look. He may say that he's got eyes in the back of his head, but he never says anything when they punch me while he's writing on the blackboard. He never sees into the corners of the playground when they're all picking on me.

Worse than being bullied was that the grown-ups knew about it and thought they could help. He wished he had never told anyone.

Going to tell your mummy about this? Shane would poke him hard in the chest. Go on, run off and tell your mummy. You can't tell your dad, `cos you haven't got one. Scholarship kid, too poor to be at our school really.

Of course, Jon would never run. His pride wouldn't let him. So he just put up with it until finally the tears came, which was just what they wanted. He wished for something, anything that would stop the bullies. Nothing was too dreadful, a bomb landing on the school or a terrible disease hitting his town. What did happen was very nearly as bad.

Shane and his two friends were waiting to ambush him on his walk to school. At this point, Jon had a choice. He could walk on and pretend to ignore their attempts to trip him up or grab his bag. Or, he could stand still and get it over with. This time, he discovered a new way. Jon forgot his pride and ran, faster than he ever had before. The P.E teacher would have been amazed. Down the path at the back of the school, his feet splashing through the puddles and along the side of the allotments, not even looking to see if he was followed. Then, dodging into the bushes and trees that bordered the path. He stopped, breathing hard.

Gosh, I could never run that fast.

Jon jumped at the voice. He hadn't noticed the other boy standing there.

Are you hiding? The boy's face was eager. Quick, I can hear someone. Come further back. They'll never see you here.

Shielded by the thick new leaves of the bushes, Jon watched the gang running past.

Oh, come on, Shane, puffed Carl. His fat, round face was red. We'll be late again if we're not careful.

Not as late as he's going to be, called out Steve, raising his fist in the air as he stopped. Shane's gang! He called out as if he was at a football match.

The three of them ambled back the way