Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Secrets in the Dark
Secrets in the Dark
Secrets in the Dark
Ebook327 pages4 hours

Secrets in the Dark

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Be Careful What You Wish For...

Hiding from bullies in the town cemetery seemed like a good idea. Right up until we fell through a creepy secret doorway into a magic land called Chimera.

That certainly changed things. My friends think change is cool. But me? Not so much. What’s wrong with how things are?

I mean, it’s already pretty weird around here!

In our town, people still talk about that time twelve years ago — the year we were born — as THE STRANGEST YEAR EVER. Yeah, like that. ALL CAPS.

Turns out, only someone born that year can get through the secret doorway.

Too bad school doesn’t teach what’s really important. Like what to do about fog that smells so bad you can barely breathe. Or an enchanted forest where you can get lost forever, and shrieking monsters that want to eat you for lunch.

Or what to do when everything you say can trigger a magic spell. Actually, some spells are pretty cool, but others — Ugh!

My friends and I promised to keep Chimera a secret, but that’s hard when you go there every month. Especially when the town bullies keep trying to make you tell them all about it.

Who knew being born in THE STRANGEST YEAR EVER could change...everything!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherKD Blakely
Release dateDec 15, 2012
ISBN9780988662612
Secrets in the Dark

Related to Secrets in the Dark

Related ebooks

YA Fantasy For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Secrets in the Dark

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Secrets in the Dark - KD Blakely

    Chapter 1

    What The…?

    I’d never actually had my face pushed into a bowl of jello, but I was pretty sure it would feel exactly like this. My whole body was being shoved through something rubbery and clammy. Totally disgusting!

    Note to self — You can’t breathe jello!

    My lungs heaved as if I’d run a mile, but I still couldn’t get my breath. It wasn’t fair! All we’d been trying to do was get away from that creep Andrew and his friends. How could this be happening?

    Not breathing was bad, but not seeing made it worse. Much worse. I was lost in the dark, as if I’d gone blind. It might only have been a few moments, but each moment felt like forever.

    I couldn’t see my friends Faith and Olivia. Were they lost in this strange place with me? Or was I all alone?

    I waved my hands in front of my face, but couldn’t see them, either. Fear spread through me and leaked out in a long moan, like air escaping from a balloon. I felt it pass my lips, but couldn’t hear it. I wasn’t just blind. I was deaf.

    My heart raced, like it was trying to beat its way out of my chest. I’d never been this scared.

    So what can make you more frightened when you’re already terrified? Start falling, plummeting through space, when you can’t see where you’re going.

    This morning, the nightmare that woke me had seemed terrible. But compared to being in this place, it was no more than a stupid dream. I wished this were just a nightmare —then maybe I’d wake up.

    How could this day go so wrong?

    XXXXX

    How could I have known it would be my worst day ever? Maybe the beginning should have been my first clue. I didn’t even make it out of bed before the day went wrong.

    My eyes popped open and I lay on my back, gasping like a fish. Tears were drying on my cheeks, leaving my skin itchy and tight. The dream had been really messed up, and I’d never been so glad to be awake.

    My two best friends, Faith and Olivia, said they were done — they couldn’t be friends with a kid anymore. They turned and left me, ignoring when I begged them to come back. I kept calling while they walked away. As they grew taller and older with every step they took.

    While I remained behind. Still twelve.

    Knowing it was a dream didn’t make it any better. My friends really were changing and I couldn’t do anything about it. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying not to feel hopeless. The weather certainly didn’t help. The pale January light barely reached into my room, turning the bright pink paint I loved as dull and gray as my mood.

    I sat up, scrubbing my hands over my face, and waited for my breathing to slow.

    I was still thinking about the dream while I staggered to the bathroom, only half-awake. Mom would say I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. But I just couldn’t see the doorframe in the gloomy light. That’s why I caught my toe and stumbled, smashing my elbow against the door.

    Dang!

    This day can’t get any worse. Can it?

    The sound of my mom’s voice calling me to breakfast answered that question. Katherine Alice Taylor! Get down here. This. Minute.

    Uh oh. Full name. How many times had she called me?

    Okay, so this day could get worse.

    Coming!

    I raced down the stairs, worried about why she’d been calling. This time, Mom would’ve been right — I wasn’t paying attention. Not good! I tripped halfway down the stairs and nearly took a header onto the living room rug.

    Note to self – Always pay attention going down stairs!

    Super-OW-i-fragil-istic! This time it was my knee that got smashed as I made a desperate grab for the handrail. At this rate, I‘d be too bruised for school. Although, that might not be such a bad thing. Maybe I could get excused for terminal klutziness. I almost laughed out loud when I pictured asking Mom to write that excuse for me.

    As if.

    With my knee throbbing in counterpoint to the ache in my elbow, I hobbled carefully down the rest of the steps. Man, I was glad my brother Christopher hadn’t seen me do that!

    Then I rounded the corner to the kitchen where only three places were set at the table. My steps slowed even further, and my legs felt like they’d turned to lead. Chris wouldn’t be at breakfast. He wouldn’t be teasing me, messing up my hair, or calling me a klutz.

    He was supposed to have returned from his honeymoon yesterday. Today he’d be in his new house. With his new wife. Not that I didn’t like Ronny — exactly — but she was the last of way too many changes.

    Why does everything keep changing?

    There you are, Kat. Mom sounded cross and I wasn’t sure why until she said, I never have to get you out of bed, so I didn’t notice the time. Now you’re going to be late for school.

    I glanced at the clock in disbelief, and my stomach felt like it had fallen off a cliff. I never overslept. How could it be so late?

    I mumbled, Sorry, Mom. I wished I could start this day over. I was going to get a tardy in homeroom. That totally sucked.

    My day didn’t get any better after that. Mrs. Wilson liked to make tardy students stand at their desk until she marked them down. And she always took a lo-o-o-ng time. I ground my teeth together knowing everyone would be staring at me while I waited. And waited.

    What a terrible morning! At least it can’t get any worse.

    I hate it when I’m wrong…

    Chapter 2

    Blood Sister Request

    In 1st period, our Science teacher, Mrs. Hernandez, started in about the year we were born. I know it probably doesn’t matter in most towns, but when you grow up in Santa Ramona, the year you’re born changes everything. That is, if you were born twelve years ago.

    "Okay class, settle down. Let’s discuss possible scientific reasons behind so-called strange events. Who wants to tell their favorite story about THE-STRANGEST-YEAR-EVER? Anyone? Come on, it should be exciting to be born during such a special year. No one? How about you, Kat. Tell us your favorite story."

    Me? Was she kidding? I didn’t have a favorite T.S.Y.E. story!

    I’d listened to the town’s ridiculous stories my whole life. Over and over. Again and again. The way people talked about it, you’d think they’d all managed to live through the ten plagues of Egypt or something.

    How many times had I heard about the entire town going crazy that year?

    How every rose in town withered and died one night.

    How dozens of people saw flocks of birds flying backwards.

    How the trees lost all their leaves the first day of every month for the entire year. Only to grow them all back a week later.

    And, depending on who was doing the telling, hundreds, or maybe thousands, of warty brown toads fell from the sky in the middle of Main Street. When the sky was cloudless and blue. Seven different times.

    It got so old.

    People kept talking about hundreds of strange events that supposedly happened that year. Too bad there weren’t any cell phone cameras back then. I might’ve believed some if there was any proof. Instead, I was sure most were I-made-up-a-weirder-one-than-you stories.

    I call all that talk having a TSYE — yeah, like tizzy. Mrs. Hernandez could just forget it!

    When I didn’t answer, she said, You don’t have one? How about you, Olivia? Tell us your favorite story.

    Why do they have to keep talking about it? I think everyone should just get over THE-STRANGEST-YEAR-EVER. Okay, so I’d never actually seen it written that way. But it’s how everyone said it. All-one-word. ALL CAPS.

    Was I excited to be born during such a ‘special year’? Heck no, I wasn’t excited. It was a total pain.

    XXXX

    On the way to 2nd period, Andrew Sawyer started in on Faith.

    Again.

    Andrew acted offended by her very existence. It didn’t make sense — she’d never done anything to him. But he took every chance he could to humiliate her.

    This time, he tripped Faith when she tried to pass him in the hall.

    Note to self — Avoid Andrew, no matter what.

    My muscles quivered with my desire to slap the nasty made-you-look-stupid grin right off his face. I might’ve done it, but it would just make Faith feel more unhappy. She thought Andrew would act worse if we did something to make him angry. I thought she was wrong — how could he get worse?

    Olivia agreed with me. She and Faith argued a lot about Andrew. So I wasn’t surprised when I heard Olivia’s teeth grinding together, so loud I expected them to break.

    Faith stumbled down the hall, taking a half dozen weird staggering steps to keep her balance. She didn’t fall, and she didn’t smash into the lockers like Andrew intended, but she looked pretty strange. The hallway rang with shouts of laughter. I was actually amazed she’d been able to stay on her feet. All those hours of soccer practice had paid off, so I wouldn’t be able to make fun of that anymore.

    Andrew laughed the loudest. What a stork. I mean dork.

    Andrew and his stupid jokes!

    Sure Faith’s legs grew a lot this year, and at times, like now, she looked all knees and elbows. And okay, those steps had looked weird. But no way did she look like a stork.

    Faith put her head down and pushed through the crowd that had gathered. When Olivia and I caught up with her, she was bent over the sink in the girl’s bathroom. It was the one place Andrew couldn’t get her.

    I stood there, feeling useless, as Faith rubbed her hands over her eyes, muttering, No crying in school.

    Olivia growled in frustration and kicked the trashcan once, hard enough to cause a metallic clang as it hit the tile wall. She chanted, Andrew sucks. He really, really sucks!

    I couldn’t think of anything to say. Not even a good line from a song or a movie. Finally, I muttered, Good save. I’d’ve planted my face in Carly’s locker.

    Olivia rolled her eyes at me and I glared back. It wasn’t that lame. Was it? Maybe I should say something else. Yeah…like what?

    The normally harsh buzz of the bell calling us to class had never sounded so good. Totally saved by the bell!

    We just made it, rushing in as the second bell rang. Turns out, we shouldn’t have bothered. Andrew might have been in his seat if we were late. Instead, the entire English class got to see him bump into Faith as she took her seat. Her backpack fell off her shoulder with a bang. At least people had to laugh a lot more quietly in here than they had in the hallway.

    Andrew gave her a disgustingly fake apology. "Gee Faith, I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice you there." He smiled his mocking my-dentist-whitened-my-teeth-way-too-much smile. Then he widened his narrow brown I-am-such-a-great-liar eyes, and piled sarcasm on his voice so thick he should be choking on it.

    The teacher, Mr. Carter, bought it of course. Grown-ups always believed Andrew when he acted all goody-goody. I dug my nails into my palms. If I didn’t, I was afraid I’d jump to my feet and call Andrew a dirty rotten liar. Right in the middle of class.

    It was bad enough that everyone laughed at her. But after Faith scooped up her backpack and rummaged through it, she stared in misery at her pencils. They were all in jagged pieces.

    Too bad we sat on opposite sides of the room — I’d have given her one of mine. Instead, her red cheeks clashed horribly with her auburn hair as she made her way to the front of class to borrow a replacement from Mr. Carter.

    Andrew had been pretty mean that morning, but on the way to fourth period, he shoved Faith out of his way. He pushed hard enough to make sure she hit the lockers this time. He raised his voice so everyone in the hall could hear him, Why is this stupid giraffe standing in the hallway like it belongs here?

    Stupid giraffe? Faith isn’t that tall.

    Before the laughter could start, Olivia snorted. Loudly. Why is this ugly hippo blocking the hallway? I’d like to get to class.

    My palms began to sweat as Andrew’s face grew dark and tight. He glared murderously at Faith — Faith, not Olivia.

    Faith couldn’t miss that look in his eyes. She muttered, I hate him! as she lowered her head and pushed past him down the hall with Olivia and me on her heels.

    As we passed Andrew, he murmured, Watch your back goin’ home. We’re not gonna let stupid giraffes wander around loose.

    Getting picked on at school was bad enough. Now they were going to mess with us on the way home?

    Perfect.

    Hopefully the smile I gave Faith looked better on the outside than it felt on the inside. Ignore him. Who cares what he says.

    Okay, that really was lame.

    Faith shook her head, biting her lip, looking from Olivia to me. She rubbed her forehead like her head hurt. The defeated look on her face made my stomach ache. She lowered her hand and shook her head. Forget it, okay.

    Note to self — Do not say lame things to your friends.

    XXXX

    It was a minimum day. Normally that would be great. But now, I couldn’t get excited, not when Andrew would be waiting for us. Faith grew more and more nervous as we gathered our stuff to leave. Her hands shook so bad Olivia grabbed Faith’s backpack and shoved her books inside.

    Faith hung back when we left school. Her eyes searched warily, looking for Andrew. But we wouldn’t be able to see him until we stood right next to him. The weather had grown increasingly cold and miserable during the day. Now the wind picked up and whipped my hair into my eyes. Clouds pressed close to the ground, mixing with the thickening fog. How could we avoid him if we couldn’t see him?

    Faith grabbed her long curly hair. She dug the heels of her hands into her temples so hard her dark brown eyes pulled into narrow slits. Help me! Keep me away from Andrew today! She stared at us desperately.

    Olivia’s green eyes narrowed in frustration. When’re we gonna stand up to him? That’s whatcha gotta do with a bully!

    Faith clutched her hair so tightly I was afraid she was going to rip it out of her head. Keep me away from him. Please. I’m asking as your Blood Sister!

    That did it!

    Chapter 3

    All For One

    What do you remember best about being eight? I remember taking our Blood Sister oath, camped out in Faith’s backyard, under a tent made of blankets. It still made me feel queasy.

    Now, people just call us The Three. But it started as The Three Musketeers, so long ago we couldn’t remember why. What I did remember was Olivia’s dad laughing when he heard about it. I got mad at him for laughing at us, but forgave him when he taught us, ‘All for one and one for all’. That sounded pretty cool.

    It’s what firemen do, he’d told us. Olivia never has to worry — my guys and I are there for each other. If you girls are Three Musketeers, it should be your motto.

    When you’re eight, taking a motto demands an appropriate ritual. We planned a secret ceremony, and created an oath to chant together. I still remembered every bit of it, but what I would never forget was the ‘blood’ part!

    Olivia brought a pin, I brought rubbing alcohol, and Faith supplied the campsite. After swishing the pin through alcohol, I jabbed it — carefully — into my finger. Too carefully. My finger burned where I’d stuck it, but no blood came out. Not one drop. No amount of squeezing helped.

    I couldn’t believe I had to stab myself a second time. Grosserific! And the second time stung even worse. No way was I ever doing that again!

    After watching my example, Olivia got a little too enthusiastic. Her finger actually dripped blood.

    Ugh!

    Faith was much better, quickly squeezing up a single drop of blood. She shook her head at Olivia, who was trying to keep hers from getting on her shirt. Keep it off the blanket or Mom’ll kill me!

    Olivia had rolled her eyes. Then hurry up already.

    The three of us stepped into a circle and touched our fingers together, chanting the motto we’d worked on all afternoon.

    "All for one and one for all,

    Blood Sisters will answer your call.

    This I promise, friend to friend,

    To stick together ‘til the end.

    If l should fail a Sister’s plea,

    A life of doom will follow me."

    Okay, none of us will become a famous poet — at least not for writing good poems. But we were eight, what do you expect? For us, it was much more than a promise. It was a vow we could count on, forever.

    Like Faith was counting on us to keep her away from Andrew.

    Chapter 4

    Cemetery’s End

    Olivia sighed and shook her head, but the arguing was over. For today at least. She raised her right eyebrow. Just the one eyebrow. Her so-what-are-we-going-to-do-now look.

    Where could we go? Home would take us the same way as Andrew. Not good. There was really only one place we could go where Andrew wouldn’t want to follow.

    I scowled at Olivia, and her eyes grew wide at my expression. She looked worried — she should. She was going to hate my idea! There was one place Andrew despised, but Olivia didn’t like it much better.

    The cemetery.

    Olivia stiffened and her mouth pinched up like she’d sucked a lemon. I spoke quickly, Andrew probably won’t even go in, but if he does there’s plenty of places to hide.

    Olivia surprised me when she just nodded and muttered, Oh goody, my favorite.

    So instead of turning left out of school, we went right. I hoped Andrew and his friends wouldn’t notice. Maybe they’d pick a spot on the way home and wait for us. And wait. And wait. And we wouldn’t come that way.

    Cool!

    It didn’t take long to go the five short blocks to Main Street. There, on the far side of the street loomed the huge old cemetery. We should be safe if we could get in.

    A wall of rough grey stone nearly seven feet high enclosed the cemetery. Only the very top, worn smooth by more than 150 years of rain and wind, was supposed to be safe to touch. It was the only part that wouldn’t rub your skin raw like sandpaper.

    The heavy metal gates at the entrance were standing open, and my breath whooshed out in relief. Once inside, we ducked down the narrow twisting driveway that ran along the north side of the cemetery, crossing the small parking lot where muddy puddles advertised the rain from the night before.

    As we moved into the grounds, I felt a shudder work its way up my spine. How incredibly cliché! I wasn’t the one scared of the cemetery. Not like Olivia. But today it was like we’d entered somewhere…different.

    The ground ahead rose and fell in low rolling hills, covered by trees, statues of crying angels, crooked headstones, and small stone buildings. Mausoleums — houses for the dead.

    I could see all of this much too clearly. Here, inside the graveyard, the fog was strangely thin. A few grey ribbons drifted here and there, no more than knee high. Unfortunately. This would have been a good time to have a nice thick blanket of fog to hide in!

    Darn it.

    It was quiet in here. And too still. The air felt awfully thin, like the long dead inhabitants had sucked in a tremendous breath, trapping all the oxygen deep in their graves. What would happen if everything inside that cemetery suddenly exhaled?

    I don’t like this place, Olivia whispered. It’s totally creepy! Actually, it was more of a whimper than a whisper.

    "You watched The Wizard of Oz one time too many. You sound just like Dorothy. When Olivia stuck her tongue out at me, I grinned and quoted in a high shaky voice, I don’t like this forest. It’s dark, and creepy."

    I tipped my head back, looking at the sky. Isn’t this when the flying monkeys show up?

    Faith relaxed enough to snicker when Olivia jerked her head back, glancing nervously at the sky. You had to give Faith credit. She might be afraid of bullies, but she was never afraid of things like monsters under the bed, graveyards, or flying monkeys.

    I laughed. Sorry, Olivia, no flying monkeys.

    She’s right though — it’s creeporific in here.

    Today the normally peaceful cemetery was the perfect setting for a horror movie. Maybe it was the way the damp, gloomy weather washed the color from the grass and trees, making everything look grey. Or the constant sound of croaking frogs and the low discordant drone of insects. Perhaps it was the nasty smell of mold and mildew that rose from the wet grass with every step. Whatever the reason, it lacked only a few zombies rising from their graves to turn this into a total freak show.

    Olivia was standing still, glaring at me. Why must you always quote books and movies at us?

    Duh. Mom’s a librarian and Dad’s watched every movie ever made. Lines from books and movies get quoted all the time at my house. I can’t help it.

    Olivia opened her mouth to argue but Faith interrupted. Shhh! They’re coming. Her eyes were large and frightened as she gestured toward a nearby mausoleum. Hide!

    The three of us barely fit behind the small building. My arm broke out in chill bumps as I crouched down against the cold, damp stone, trying to make myself as small as possible. Just how many friends was Andrew bringing with him? The sound of several feet crunched through the gravel and splashed through the puddles in the parking lot.

    Yuck! I recognized Carly even through the disgust that distorted her voice. I’m cold and wet. Can’t we just forget about them?

    Andrew sounded so different I didn’t recognize him for a moment. Where was his loud, bossy voice? He sounded nervous. Almost…timid. They’re not here. We should go.

    "Don’t be such a weenie, Andy. I saw them go in here."

    Oh no, that’s Ray. Faith’s afraid of Andrew, but Ray really scares me.

    Faith made an urgent gesture to move deeper into the cemetery. She was biting her lip so hard I was afraid it might start bleeding. Olivia and I ducked down and crab walked after her, keeping low.

    We hid behind the largest headstones and monuments as we moved further into the graveyard, trying to be quiet. I don’t think we were totally successful. It’s hard to be stealthy while your feet make disgusting squelchy noises in the rain-soaked grass.

    It was especially hard if you were Olivia. I had to keep my eyes focused on my own feet. If I looked at her, I was going to laugh out loud and give us away.

    Olivia couldn’t stand walking over a grave. After watching the original Carrie, she’d admitted she was terrified hands would reach out of a coffin, grab her by the ankle, and pull her down under the ground. Olivia was the opposite of Faith. She wouldn’t hesitate to take on a bully, but cemeteries and zombies and flying monkeys totally freaked her out.

    She tiptoed ahead of me in a strange zigzag pattern, bent almost double to remain out of sight. Occasionally she sprang sideways, making a quiet, strangled sound in her throat when she realized she was on a grave.

    We kept moving deeper inside, getting to the oldest part where you could no longer read some of the names and dates on the crumbling tombstones. The sound of

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1