8

The next day, I woke a few minutes before ten o’clock in the morning. I lay in bed for a few minutes, just soaking in the morning sun and thinking about how the night before had played out for us.

Our circle had crossed into new bounds. We were all somehow different to each other now. We might never be the same again, I thought.

Particularly Polly.

I thought it might be best if I leave her alone for a day or two. She would likely come back around soon, but she would do it on her terms. Turning on her better judgment got her in a horrible mess; and now I knew she would not budge.

I knew that as well as I knew kids in our town just don’t go to the Forbidden Playground.

I slid out of bed and made my way downstairs, where I found Mom and Dad at the breakfast table. Each had a plate in front of them. There was another set for me.

“Good morning,” Dad greeted, just a hint of mischief in his voice. “Did you finally get back to sleep?”

“What were you doing up?” Mom asked.

She was still unaware that I had ever been awake at all.

I didn’t get to answer her before the phone rang.

She got up to answer it and I took a seat and silently dug into my breakfast.

I didn’t know what my father might have had in mind and I didn’t want to. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it.

“Are you going to tell me where you went last night, Cameron?” Dad asked.

He still spoke in a low voice, even though I was certain Mom couldn’t hear anything we were saying.

She was talking to her boss on the phone. I could tell just by what she was saying. All the same, I didn’t want her to know I was out last night any more than my father did.

I finished chewing my food, and then I answered him. “I went to the Forbidden Playground last night with my�"”

“You did what?” he interrupted. “You know as well as anyone that place is off limits,” he said. “There’s a good reason it’s forbidden.”

“I know,” I responded. “But there was this kid named Nick at my party yesterday�"and he dared us to. He basically made us do it.”

“Nick who?” Dad asked.

“You’d have to ask Polly,” I said. “I forgot his last name. He’s an older kid. A home schooler. He hasn’t been in town too long. And he wanted to challenge us… you know?”

“I guess I didn’t see him,” Dad said. “But I think I should probably have a talk with his parents all the same.”

“They’re probably as awful as he is. The kid is really weird, and really cocky. We didn’t want to do it as much as he drove us to do it. He made all of us sound like cowards.”

“But you did it, Cameron, and that is on you,” Dad scolded.

“I know,” I submitted, lowering my head. “But that stupid home schooler made us look weak.”

“Sometimes it pays to look weak, Son” Dad assured me. “That’s called humility… All of you could have gotten hurt out there. Killed even.”

“I know,” I replied in a low voice.

I remembered thinking the same thing when Poll and I were in the woods.

“I want you to promise me that you won’t ever go out there again,” Dad said, his face stern.

I promised him I wouldn’t go out there again and I finished my breakfast mostly in silence.

After breakfast I went upstairs to take a shower.

The whole time I was feeling better and better about everything that had happened the night before.

Not only did we break new ground in our circle, but I was feeling better somehow now that at least one of my parents knew that I was brave enough for the challenge.

In some way, I told myself Dad was even proud of me�"and my friends�"for being as courageous the night before.

Had he seen what chased us out of the woods; it would have been another story. He would have looked as rattled as I did.

And that was when the imaging crept back into my mind.

As I stood there brushing my teeth in the mirror above the sink, the image of the dead boy climbing out of his grave played on in my head again.

His hand reached from the grave. He pulled himself out like a zombie in a horror movie. Patches of skin had rotted away from his face.

Then my made imagined him in the mirror. I imagined him standing right behind me�"his cold dead breathe like ice on the back of my neck. I imagined him�"

Then I realized I wasn’t imagining him. He was really there.

As I looked out the bathroom window I saw him just standing there. He was looking up toward the window. He was looking right at me with his cold, dead eyes.

The dead boy had found me.

I didn’t know how, but he had found me.

He had come to haunt me! He had come to kill me! He had come to eat my brain right out of my skull!

Now he knew where I lived, and he had come for me!