Page 94 of Sweet Nightmare

“What’s your name?” I ask him as I slowly rock him.

But he doesn’t answer. He just shakes his head and says, “You have to find Daddy! He’ll keep the monsters away.”

I start to ask him what he means, but he disappears as suddenly as he came.

There’s a hitch in my throat now, a weight on my chest that wasn’t there before, though I don’t know why. That doesn’t stop me from feeling awful that I couldn’t help him.

As I turn down the last path that leads to my cottage, I’m half walking, half running. The wind and rain continue to pummel me, and I’m determined to get inside before the storm gets worse—or another flicker appears.

But I’ve barely taken more than a few steps toward my dorm when a Calder Academy student appears out of thin air. I don’t recognize her at all, so I blink a few times to clear the rain out of my eyes. Once I do, I realize the reason I don’t recognize her is that she’s not a student at all. Or at least not a current student. She’s a ghost.

Like the spirit I saw earlier in the floral nightgown, her skin is the translucent gray I’m used to seeing. But also like that woman—and the little boy I saw just a few moments ago—her clothes are in color. And so is her shaggy brown hair, which throws me off completely.

She’s wearing the very same red plaid Calder Academy skirt I’ve got hanging in my closet right now, as well as the same black polo shirt. But she’s got a large, black beanie on her head, mirrored oval sunglasses perched on her face, and an oversize plaid shirt wrapped around her waist. Not to mention the dozen or so rope bracelets that adorn both her wrists.

Also, she’s got a wide smile on her face, which definitely isn’t the usual for the Calder Academy I’m used to, as she half walks, half skips straight toward me like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Considering this is all unfolding in the middle of a storm, as rain she can’t see pours down on her and wind she can’t feel whips through her hair, it feels extra weird.

Especially since there’s something familiar about her face and about the way she walks that lulls me into a false sense of security. Instead of backing up, I stay right where I am, watching her even as a bunch of flickers appear around her.

Men, women, and children flick all around her as she walks—here and then gone, from one moment to the next.

As they get closer, I finally turn to look at them. And that’s when the girl strikes. Her eyes sink into her head, blood drips in rivers down her face, and her mouth opens in a silent, jagged scream as she morphs from the nineties student I’ve been staring at into the hideous ghoul from earlier in Aunt Claudia’s office. As she does, she throws herself straight toward me, and I end up falling backward onto my butt as I try desperately—and futilely—to avoid her.

One bony hand latches onto my forearm, electric shocks surging through me the moment it connects. Every nerve in my body lights up in the worst way, and images pour through my mind like icy raindrops—there for a moment and then swept away in the floodwaters of emotion that threaten to drown me a little more with each second that passes.

Calder-blue eyes.

A newborn baby, crying.

Tentative hands.

A rocking chair.

A grave.

Fear.

Grief.

And pain.

So much pain it swamps me. I try to fight through it, but it’s impossible, even before she lowers her distorted face to mine. “Look!” she rasps, even as she pins me in place. “I need you to see.”

“I’m trying,” I gasp out, yanking desperately against her grip.

But she holds on tight as more visions flood my mind. This time they’re all of Carolina. My beautiful, lost cousin.

Carolina, in my mother’s office. Carolina, looking into a pen in the dungeon. Carolina, in the old root cellar. Carolina, in chains.

My roiling emotions collide like comets, sending sparks of agony showering through me as everything goes dim.

I gulp for breath as I struggle to stay conscious. I’ve never passed out around the ghosts—or the flickers—before, but something tells me doing so right now is a very, very bad idea.

I keep struggling, keep trying to free my arm as the shock waves burn deeper and deeper. Except she’s not letting go, and things around me have gone from dim to dark.

But I have one more struggle in me, and I do the only thing I can think of. I grab onto her shoulder with my other hand and pull my arm back as hard as I can.

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