She Lied She Died by Carissa Lynch (books to read for teens TXT) 📗

Great. I slept for less than three hours. What the hell?

Reaching the table, I pressed the home button on my iPhone. I stared at the home screen—a generic beach scene with sand and white caps—it was indeed only 4am. So what woke me?

A deep sleeper, I rarely rose without an alarm. But, lately, my body had been on edge—always ready to leap up and bounce at every single shadow and sound.

Acting on a hunch, I moved to the living room window and peeked through the blinds. I don’t know what I was expecting—the press on my doorstep at four in the morning? Chrissy Cornwall on the front porch?

But there was nothing in the driveway besides my car, parked crooked from when I’d driven home from Chrissy’s only a few hours earlier.

But something about it wasn’t right. A yellowish reflection of the moon on my windshield … no, that’s not it. Something’s out there … something’s not right, I realized.

I unlatched the bolt and, nervously, pushed the front door open a crack. I listened for the sounds of the countryside—coyotes rummaging through the field, raccoons tearing through the garbage cans … but heard nothing.

Then there it was … the tinkling sound of a bell, or a wind chime. Maybe even a young child’s laughter…

I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the porch. I was in my robe and I wasn’t wearing shoes, but I had to see for myself. Had to chase away the boogeyman …

“Hello?” I called out cautiously, looking left toward the country road and then right toward the field.

I couldn’t see the moon anymore, the night sky star-free and full of sickle-shaped angry clouds. Where did the yellow light I saw come from? I wondered.

But that’s when I heard it: the unmistakable sound of laughter, but it was so far away … carried from afar on the wind. I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Who’s out there? This is private property,” I bellowed.

I could have sworn I heard the sharp sound of a gasp in the distance and then the yellow flash of a handheld light poking through the trees …

There was someone running through the field, the quiet thump of their shoes … and then the rustling of trees in the distance. What the hell?

“Who’s out there?” I bellowed.

Impulsively, I stepped off the porch, my bare feet instantly met with the sharp, unforgiving gravel. I winced, but took a few more steps anyway and flipped on my flashlight app.

Holding it out in front of me like a spotlight, I moved it left to right, shining it all along the tree line, looking for trespassers. When I didn’t see anyone, I swept my light over the field…

I stopped when my light hit a lumpy shadow that didn’t belong there.

My feet forgotten, I walked over the gravel and stepped onto the marshy grass of the field. Now that I was closer, I held the light up again.

Slowly, the weak beam illuminated what appeared to be a torso, a neck … until finally reaching the eerie white glow of a face.

Chapter Eleven

I inched my way through the grass, toes sloshing in the ice-cold mud, too-tall grass nipping at my ankles.

There’s another body in the field. In the exact same spot as Jenny…

My body burned with adrenaline, stomach doing somersaults in my throat, and the fear … the fear. I should have felt it, but the same thing that compelled me to look all those years ago was driving me forward now. Why can’t I be one of those people who run?! Who look the other way…?

I stopped ten feet from the body, eyes narrowing at the blank face, the mirrorless black eyes staring back at me…

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

So many years ago, I had wished—prayed—that the body in the field wasn’t real. Then, my wish hadn’t come true.

But this time … this time the outcome is different.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I stepped forward, moving faster now and knelt beside the mannequin on the ground.

The face was blank, the head hairless, mouth in a strange O position. And there weren’t even any arms or legs … how did I miss that at first glance?

I’d seen these stupid dolls before … during a CPR course I took as a teen when, once upon a time, I dreamed of working as a lifeguard at the local pool. The dolls were used to emulate choking or lifeless persons, and as I touched the cold plastic face, I remembered another version of me, down on my knees, trying to administer rescue breaths to my brother.

It’s so easy to remember the number of breaths and chest compressions when you’re sitting in a class getting drilled … but in that moment of panic, faced with my brother dead on the floor … my mind had drawn a blank.

I’d pounded on his chest, then pinched his nose and tried to breathe … breathe, Jack. Dammit, BREATHE.

But Jack was beyond breathing … even to the most untrained eye, there was no saving my brother.

Grimacing, I reached for the note. It was pinned to the front of the mannequin’s chest:

If you help her, this will be you soon.

Stunned, I leapt to my feet, once again shining my light through the desolate field and illuminating the trees beyond.

That’s when I saw them: two young girls, peeping out from either side of a fat oak tree. My breath froze in my chest. Because for a few seconds, I thought … I thought they were Jenny and Chrissy, two ghosts watching me from the safety of the tree’s shadowy embrace …

“Hey!” I shouted into the darkness, my voice ricocheting through the trees.

What happened next wasn’t planned … I have no memory of making the choice to chase them. But the next thing I knew, I was moving. Slipping and sliding through the thick brown mud, running after the girls…

“Get back here, you little brats!” I screamed. I darted