The Haunting by Natasha Preston EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Natasha Preston
- Language: English
- Genre:Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23
What’s the best way to ask your boyfriend how he feels about the one-year
anniversary of his father’s Halloween murder spree?
Your ex-boyfriend, because, oh yeah, you’re forbidden to ever see or
speak with him again.
Nash never returned to school after five of our classmates were
slaughtered by his dad, a man who made me hot chocolate with a mountain
of marshmallows whenever I came over.
Jackson Whitmore was two people: the welcoming dad and the coldblooded killer. It took a long time to merge them.
The memory of what he did is all over town, haunting the residents
with constant reminders wherever you look. The memorial statue for his
victims sits proudly in the square, in the center of town, visible from every
angle—the same location where some of them were found.
I stare at it now. A bronze phoenix with its large wings splayed toward
heaven. Five names are engraved underneath the bird. I trace each one with
my finger.
Mac Johnson
Caitlin Howard
Kelsie Allen
Brodie Edwards
Jia Yang
There’s no getting away from what he did. A reminder is carved into
stone.
Jackson’s killing spree lasted a week, but it feels like it never ended.
The mayor had flowers planted in every inch of soil in the spring. It still
smelled like death to me.
Figuring out what to say to Nash has been plaguing me for the past few
weeks. Everything I think of sounds totally stupid. Forgetting him has been
impossible, and with Halloween coming up, he’s on my mind even more
than usual.
Still, it’s been about five months since we last spoke—on a rainy spring
day when we ran into each other outside school. Me leaving late for the day,
him going to collect a jacket that had been in the lost and found.
It was a short conversation once we’d asked what the other was doing.
Short and super awkward. I can still remember the way he tried to avoid
eye contact, as if looking at me hurt, and how I felt so guilty for writing him
off like the rest of the town.
Dark gray clouds, the same color as my eyes, cover the sky, as likely to
rain as I am to cry. I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to trap my
emotions inside. I’m not supposed to think about Nash. My feelings for him
were supposed to disappear along with our contact.
I walk away from the statue and toward Gina’s restaurant to meet Adi
for breakfast, still clinging to my phone in case I come up with something
good to say. I pass a couple of dressed-up scarecrows, one draped in white
like a ghost with smudged black circles for eyes. The other dressed in a
tattered black cloak with a distorted face and pointed hood. It’s the more
sinister one that I have a hard time looking at. You can tell the ghost was
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