The Forest Demands Its Due by Kosoko Jackson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Kosoko Jackson
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
“Douglas.”
I ignore Sister Annabeth because there’s blood under my nails. It’s all I
can focus on. Not the polished wood of her office. Or the photos of her
summiting six out of seven of the highest peaks. Nothing but the blood.
The good news: It’s not my blood. And there ends the good news.
The bad news: The voices are louder this time. Not the voices of the
students at Regent Academy, or those of the sisters and brothers speaking in
a rapid-fire fever pitch around me, pretending I can’t hear them as they
whisper how it was a mistake that I was accepted to this prestigious school.
Despite how much I dislike these people who stick their noses up at
everyone who comes from a different background than them, I’d welcome
that. At least those voices would make sense.
But these are the hushed whispers of Atolas Forest, which butts right up
against our school and is bigger on the inside than any map or traveler will
admit to. A forest that every student knows not to go near. And it’s talking
to me. It always talks to me. And I do my best not to listen.
Usually, if I’m lucky, the dissonant voices hum in the background like
white noise. But this time, they’re screaming. So loud I can barely hear
myself think. A cacophony of twenty-plus voices, all saying everything and
nothing at the same time, which blends together into one genderless,
consistent, loud, never-ending noise.
I want to dig my bloody nails into my scalp and rip open my head. I
want to pull apart my skull flaps, cut the pads of my fingers on jagged
pieces of bone, and dig around in my brain until I can grab the voices,
strangle them, and toss them onto the floor in a bloody heap. I know how
ridiculous that sounds, but perhaps then I’ll have peace. Just one freaking
minute of peace. Or at least I’ll be able to destroy whatever part of my mind
makes me believe that a forest is talking to me.
If I listen to the voices, really put my mind to it, and pick out a singular
one to hear, I can make out the words, like scratches against stone that
whisper a warning.
You’re going to die here.
We’re going to kill you.
They’re going to kill you.
He’s going to kill you.
Shut up, shut up, shut up, I mouth to myself, keeping my face down,
eyes staring at the red stains that tint my dark brown skin. Funny how
anything can be an anchor to reality, even someone else’s blood.
The blood in question is Kent Hale’s. It stains my knuckles too, and
some blotchy specks of it are on my cream-and-maroon Regent Academy
blazer. It has already started to dry, which is going to make it a bitch to get
out. On top of everything else I have to deal with, tending to my bloody
blazer—the only blazer I have, since only one is provided to students and
any more cost three hundred dollars apiece—is not how I want to spend my
time
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