Kelly's Curse

By Pernell Rogers

Kelly Chamberlain, a quiet 14-year-old boy, has a special gift but desires to be normal like everybody else. One night, after overhearing a private conversation, the origin of his gift becomes clear, but controlling it remained an issue.

Concerned about his mental state with his new knowledge, his newscaster mother and realtor father suggest he visit a psychologist. After a promising start, a single phone call threatens to rip the family apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pernell Rogers
• Release date: Nov 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463301173

Pernell Rogers

Pernell Rogers hails from Cleveland, Ohio. Reading was one of his first interests as a child, and he dove into it. The Apollo missions forged new interests in astronomy, UFO, the pyramids, and ancient cultures. Oddities about our world captured his attention.After traveling the world during his 14-year U.S. Air Force career, he became a civilian again working in Information Technology. His interest in writing blossomed from the removal of a lily pad from his backyard pond. In his eyes, it looked like something out of Swamp Thing with its massive, tangled root system. He imagined the root system coming alive, and that was the trigger. His first attempt at fiction writing was long, but not very good.After more years of reading and practice, he published his first story in the horror genre. Soon, his direction turned toward the supernatural thriller genre with hints of horror with some of his best ideas coming from the ideas and dreams of his friends.Visit http://pernellrogers.com to find more about him and his stories.

Book preview

Kelly’s Curse

A Supernatural Thriller

by

Pernell Rogers

Copyright © 2019 by Anthony Pernell Rogers

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

These stories are entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

More of my Stories

Kelly’s Curse

by Pernell Rogers

Chapter 1

Which bully would pick on me today, Kelly Chamberlain wondered as he strolled to school this morning. He kept his eyes glued on the houses on both sides of the street. In his mind, all the homes appeared still asleep with their curtains, blinds, front and garage doors closed, and no lights were on. He hoped they’d stay asleep.

A subtle waft of orange blossoms met his nose and he inhaled deeply. Its aroma whisked him away, but in an instant, he snapped back to reality, focusing his eyes and ears on the slightest sounds or movements. His task this morning was to make it to school in one piece, but he knew the bullies didn’t care if he made it or not.

His ears picked up something, and he stopped breathing.

It was a familiar low rumble that had often interrupted the tranquility of his morning stroll. He cringed, then scanned the houses again. Where is that sound coming from? Something shifted up ahead to his left.

A home began to yawn. A bully was awake.

He gripped the straps of his backpack and slowed his stride as the pale garage door rose. His eyes transfixed on the door until it reached its apex. A muffled thump echoed from the garage, followed by a short, soft stutter that mutated into a loud thundering roar that blasted throughout the neighborhood. He snapped his head back forcing his short dreadlocks to brush his forehead and ears.

The bully was preparing to move.

Should he take a chance and run past the driveway or wait? Bullies were unpredictable, and they didn’t care about anyone but themselves. He recalled last year that two boys at his school were hit and hospitalized by bullies, and one girl was killed, all while walking to school. He didn’t think it was fair for kids to risk losing their lives just walking to junior high school.

He leaned forward, ready to bolt, but changed his mind at the last minute. Just then, a dirty navy-blue sedan with filthy hubcaps emerged from the garage faster than he expected. The driver was leaning toward his center console, not watching where he was going or slowing down. Before the vehicle entered the street, the driver lifted his head and turned in Kelly's direction with one eyebrow raised and his mouth curled. There it was—the stare. It was the same annoyed stare he’d witnessed so many times when dealing with this type of bully. Once in the street, the vehicle sped off. Kelly shook his head and resumed his usual stride.

Which house would yawn next?

At the end of the street, he turned left and continued on his way until he approached his first intersection. Off to his left, he watched a silver midsized car arrive at the intersection the same time he did. He huffed. Will this driver be decent and allow me to cross the street? He waited on the sidewalk until the car came to a complete stop. The driver stared at him, and he started across the street. The car inched forward as soon as he stepped off the curb, and he peered over at the driver. There it was again—the stare. The car crept forward once more, and his heart thumped. Is this guy gonna run me down? He peered at the driver until he was no longer in front of the car. Its engine roared, and a stiff breeze brushed the back of Kelly's neck, leaving nasty exhaust fumes to replace the sweet aroma of the orange blossoms. Two bullies this morning. Thank goodness the school is just up ahead. Only one more street to cross.

It was the same crosswalk, right in front of the school, where the girl was killed last year. She was a seventh-grader who attended junior high for only a few days. He never forgot the memorial service they held in her honor, and he'd never forget the culprit either; a hurried parent rushing their kid to school.

As he approached the crosswalk, a train of vehicles zipped by in both directions. Vehicle after vehicle ignored the 15mph signs surrounding the crosswalk, with most of the drivers taking their precious children to school, foregoing the safety of anyone else’s children. They're all self-centered.

He stood at the crosswalk waiting for someone to give him the right of way. Finally, there was a break in the traffic. He stepped into the crosswalk, looking off to his right. A shiny red van slowly cruised toward him. He continued crossing, confident the driver would give him the right of way. He eyed the van again. The driver was facing backward with her phone glued to her ear, and she wasn’t slowing down. He slowed his pace just in case. Is she ever going to look where she’s going? She still had the phone to her ear when she finally faced forward. The van skidded, then lurched. He jumped back, then stared at her as if she was crazy. She returned the stare, her eyebrows furrowed and her phone still attached to her ear. He read her lips through the windshield and realized she’d directed those foul words at him. His heart fluttered, and his legs quivered. Suddenly, her phone launched from her hand and slammed into the windshield, and her eyes lit as she was hurled back against her seat. He gawked upon seeing the priceless look on her face but didn't understand why her phone flew from her grasp. He smirked and finished crossing the street.

He continued up the walkway toward the school's front doors. A semi-circular driveway, used by the parents to drop off and pick up their kids, sat in front of the school doors, and a line of cars snaked down the driveway and into the street like they did every school morning. He approached a silver SUV with windows so dark he couldn't see the driver. The vehicle sat motionless, so he started to cross in front of it. Its engine revved, and it abruptly pulled away, making him lean back. Son of a bitch! I must have a target on me this morning. He looked back to his right to make sure it was safe to cross. Another SUV waited to pull forward, but Kelly wasn’t taking any more chances. He didn’t move. The man in the SUV stuck his hand out the window and waved him across, but Kelly hesitated. Should I trust this guy? The man waved again, Kelly nodded and crossed the driveway as he stared. Once on the opposite sidewalk, he joined the throng of students corralling toward the four sets of double-doors and prepped himself to deal with a different set of bullies.

*****

Barbara Chamberlain, Kelly’s mother, was well into her busy morning as an on-scene reporter for Phoenix’s local KSUN television station. She and Jason Ochoa, the KSUN mobile van driver, had been dispatched to cover a two-vehicle accident at the intersection of 27th Avenue and Camelback Road. According to station sources, traffic was tied up in all directions. Barbara had no idea of the number of traffic accidents she’d reported on since she arrived in Phoenix six years ago, and she was sure that number would only increase. There were too many rude, impatient drivers who loved to bully other law-abiding drivers.

Her cell phone vibrated, and she peered at its small screen and smiled. Glancing over at Jason, she said, Guess what? We’ve got the scoop, and it’s going to be the lead story! How about that?

Awesome! I hope I’ll be able to find a place to park so we can set up. This traffic is ridiculous.

All she saw was brake lights up ahead and didn’t see how they’d be able to move any closer to the accident scene. If they took too long to set up, a competing news station could swoop in and steal their story. She placed her faith in Jason’s abilities. Her fingers whizzed around her phone’s screen to inform the studio of their predicament. Seconds later, her phone vibrated again and she discovered help from the station’s helicopter was out of the question because it was on another assignment on the west side of Phoenix. She sighed, sat back, and accepted the fact they may miss this one. She turned to Jason. He was leaning toward his window. What’s he looking for?

Without warning, Jason pulled the van into the left-hand turning lane. She hung on, unsure of what his plan was, but they were moving closer to the scene of the accident. A few emergency vehicles came into view, which was a good sign. She grabbed her seatbelt as Jason made another left turn and pulled into an empty parking lot in front of an abandoned strip mall. It was an older structure from the bygone days of strip mall mania. Unfortunately, the storefronts were boarded up with plywood and tattooed with colorful graffiti. Acts of vandalism were pretty rampant around this area. The dark gray asphalt, or what used to be asphalt, had taken a terrible beating over the years. Craters lay scattered about, and sprinkled throughout the parking lot were old fractured clumps of gray rock that used to fill them in. Jason couldn’t have chosen a worst place to park. It’s only saving grace was its proximity to the accident. She gazed down at her black, four-inch pumps and thought this might be the last time she would be wearing them.

Jason pulled parallel to the concrete parking blocks and shut off the engine. He hopped from the van, and she cracked her door allowing the warm desert air to rush inside the air-conditioned cab. She pulled down her sun visor, rummaged through her cluttered purse, and pulled out her compact makeup kit. Her face needed a little touching up, and she didn't allow the sounds of Jason’s movements in the rear of the van to disturb her.

She ran her pinky along her lips, then pursed them together, and with a smack, opened them. After dropping her makeup kit back into her purse, she ran both hands through her wavy hair to give it some volume. The sound of cracking asphalt made her look to the right as Jason pulled her door open.

All right, Barb. I’m ready.

"Okay, I'm ready too. How do I look?

"Beautiful as always. We're going to have to jog to the scene. Will you be able to make it in those heels?’

I’ll be okay.

I'll try not to go too fast. Oh, yeah, watch this pavement. It’s old with lots of cracks and loose gravel. Don’t twist your ankle."

Gotcha! I'll keep up. I hope no one else is there. Let's go!

Jason assisted Barbara from the van, then closed and locked the door behind her. She followed Jason as he halfheartedly sprinted toward the accident. After a few steps, she pulled her forearms up to her chest to keep it from bouncing around, something she’d done since she was a teenager. Jason pulled farther ahead, but she kept going. Each piece of rock and gravel that popped beneath her pumps made her wince. Please don’t let them scratch these shoes. With a short distance to go, she stopped running and began walking at a brisk pace. She saw Jason look back, and she waved for him to keep going, which he did. Once he reached the sidewalk near the intersection, he turned back again. She wasn’t breathless but breathing heavier than usual. When she caught up to him, she brushed herself off and straightened her clothes.

Okay, that was my exercise for the day. Whaddaya think? she asked.

I agree. Look, there’s a policewoman over there. Maybe she can tell you something we don’t know.

You’re right. I’ll be right back.

Barbara made her way over to the policewoman, who was able to answer most of her questions. While gathering details, she slipped her wireless transmitter into her ear, then glanced over at the accident scene. A smaller sports car sat shoved up on the curb. Its front end was demolished, and its windshield was fractured in many places but not shattered. Thank god for safety glass. Three paramedics were kneeling on a tarp working on the driver of the sports car, she assumed. A khaki colored pickup ended up in the middle of the intersection on its side. Some firefighters, along with a few bystanders, surrounded it in an attempt to place it upright. Through the chaos, she still managed to hear everything the policewoman relayed to her. A voice came through her transmitter. She raised a finger to the officer, cupped her hand over her ear, and discovered they would be on the air in about a minute. She thanked the officer and took another look at the scene. She sighed, then hustled back to Jason.

Jason’s transmitter was already in his ear, and he was ready to go.

Barb, stand over here so the sun hits your face. It makes you look more natural.

She heard the countdown from the studio, and Jason mounted the camera on his shoulders.

In five, four, three, two...you're on!

The small red light on top of the camera lit up, and she was on the air. Barbara stared directly into the lens and assumed a serious but empathetic persona as she moved naturally, glancing over her shoulder several times, pointing to the action taking place behind her. Meanwhile, Jason maneuvered the camera lens as she adjusted her stance. During her broadcast, another voice came through her earpiece telling her to begin wrapping things up. She watched as Jason zoomed in on her face, and she closed her report, ending it by stating her name and the station's call letters. The red light switched off.

Barb, that was wonderful.

"Thanks, Jason! Did you get a good shot

Reviews for Kelly's Curse

[Graham Downs · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It’s a pretty cool story. A fourteen-year-old kid sees bullies everywhere (some real, some imagined, in this reader’s humble opinion). It’s later discovered that he has supernatural abilities, which he uses to exact revenge against his tormentors.

It’s a bit like my two bullying stories, Stingers and Billy’s Zombie, only more detailed, and there are some interesting twists and turns along the way. At one point, he gets taken advantage of and manipulated to use his powers for evil.

The writing is stilted, though, and too formal in places. Also, there are some tense switches in the middle of paragraphs, and sometimes even sentences.

It’s an okay book, and I’m glad I read it. I’ll check out some of the author’s other stories, and see what I think.