Graveyard Slot Michelle Schusterman (e ink ebook reader TXT) 📖

face. I’d known ever since she appeared in the catacombs, but I wouldn’t let myself believe it because I didn’t see how it was possible. But now I understood. Guzmán had created Brunilda. Roland had created Ellie.

And I’d created the Thing.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN IT’S BAAAAACK!

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IT—SHE—wore a dress, lacy and delicate. She had my old braid, the one I’d chopped off before leaving Chelsea, hanging over her shoulder. A few loose tendrils curled around her face, and long lashes framed her cold, expressionless eyes.

Then she smiled. Or sneered. I couldn’t tell which, but it was enough to break me out of my trance. I stumbled away, staring at the space next to me. Frantically, I searched the room: the closet, under the beds, the ceiling (because I’d seen enough horror movies to know people never think to look up until it’s too late).

I was alone. When I forced myself to look back in the mirror, all I saw was my frightened reflection, alone.

“Bathroom’s all yours!” I jumped at the sound of Dad’s voice, banging my knee against the desk. He raised an eyebrow as he crossed the room and pulled back the blankets on his bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah! Fine.” My voice came out all squeaky. “You just startled me.”

Dad laughed. “Hours underground in a room made out of human bones, and you get scared by your old man coming out of the bathroom.”

I forced myself to smile, even though my insides were still shivering.

An hour later, Dad was snoring away. The lights were off, but the TV was blaring. I was lying in bed, doing my best not to glance at the mirror every few seconds. I wasn’t sure how I’d ever sleep again.

The Thing had been real to me pretty much all my life. But this was different. Just like Brunilda, now she was real to everyone else. She’d knocked Mi Jin’s camera out of her hands in the catacombs. She’d left a message on the willow tree, and Oscar had seen it. She wasn’t just in my head anymore. She was out.

What was she going to do next?

From: timelord2002@mymail.net

To: acciopancakes@mymail.net, trishhhhbequiet@mymail.net

Subject: Re: hey!

Sorry you hate being on TV. The Graveyard Slot thing is really cool, though. How did things turn out with the professor making up that ghost? Do you think the episode will be okay?

My mom did indeed make peppermint brownies. Come back to Chelsea and you can have all you want. :)

Mark

From: trishhhhbequiet@mymail.net

To: acciopancakes@mymail.net, timelord2002@mymail.net

Subject: Re: Re: hey!

well hello there, MS. TV STAR! :D i’m leaving for florida tomorrow, coming back after new year’s. how long will you be in new york?

i looked up that rumorz interview you mentioned—oscar’s really funny. are you going to do any interviews? you should!!

Ideas on How to Get Out of the Wedding from Hell:

your spider-web dress idea

you and i are co-bridesmaids and we walk down the aisle holding hands, dressed like those evil sisters from The Monster in Her Closet

you replace whatever music your mom picked with the soundtrack from Cannibal Clown Circus (still haven’t forgiven you for making me watch that one btw)

when it’s your turn to walk down the aisle, mark sets fang loose (sidenote: is it possible to train a snake to be a ring bearer? must research)

YOU TELL YOUR MOM YOU DON’T WANT TO GO. seriously, kat. you don’t want to do it, so tell her. and if she’s hurt, well, whatever. i’ve seen her hurt your feelings a million times. just tell her.

<3<3<3 trish

When our alarm went off at 8:00 a.m., I rolled over and flipped it off before Dad had even budged. My eyes were sore and scratchy, and my head felt like it was suddenly too heavy for my neck, but I was relieved. Every time I’d started drifting off, I’d seen that other version of my face in the mirror and jerked awake again, terrified.

But the Thing didn’t make an appearance as I brushed my teeth and attempted to brush the knots out of my hair. I changed into shorts and my Zombies Are People, Too! shirt— appropriate, considering my appearance this morning—and left the bathroom quickly.

The rest of the cast looked pretty zombie-like, too, although probably not because they’d lain awake all night, wondering if they’d really created an alternate ghost version of themselves. Professor Guzmán and some of his students had come to see us off. Outside, I could see Inés and Abril chatting animatedly with Mi Jin while helping her load luggage into the back of one of our rental vans, while Roland and Sam were deep in discussion with Guzmán. Dad joined Jess and Lidia, who were going over our itinerary with Mr. Cooper by the checkout desk.

Jamie waved from where he was standing with Hailey, Oscar, and Thiago near the entrance. I dragged my suitcase over, doing my best impression of a normal, fully-awake girl who was not on the verge of a complete meltdown.

“Hello,” I said, smiling at Thiago before pointing at the croissant in Hailey’s hand. “That. I need one of those. Or, like, three.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jamie said immediately, and we headed into the breakfast room. I grabbed a handful of napkins and studied the selection of pastries. Jamie pointed to the smaller croissants in the middle of the tray. “Those are chocolate.”

“Done.” I took three, along with a blueberry muffin for the plane.

“So you’ve never been to New York, right?” Jamie asked.

“Nope,” I said, filling a cup with orange juice. “Dad and I didn’t