What Stays Buried by Suzanne Young EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Suzanne Young
- Language: English
- Genre: Children’s Scary Stories
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
CALISTA WYNN KNEW the boy was dead before she even opened her
eyes. He whispered her name again, soft and far away, how all ghosts sound
even when they’re right next to your ear. An echo through the veil of this
life and the otherworld.
Calista’s eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t turn to the boy right away. It
was too early for a communication. Most ghosts had the decency to let her
sleep until her alarm sounded for school. She hadn’t been sleeping well, not
these past few weeks, at least. She would have appreciated another fifteen
minutes of rest.
Finally, already awake, Calista turned on her side without lifting her
head off the pillow. Right there, inches away, was a pale-faced kid with
cropped blond hair and dark blue eyes. The collar of his shirt was stiff with
speckles of blood.
“You can see me, right?” the boy asked, hopeful. Calista felt a stab of
sympathy for him. He’d probably been searching for a medium for years,
decades, before finding her. That was usually how it worked. Word of
mouth in the ghost world took awhile. It wasn’t like they could text.
“Yeah, I can see you,” Calista said, sitting up.
She cracked her neck and blinked her eyes open wider, sleep still on the
corners of her vision. Morning sunlight filtered through her bedroom
curtains as a prism of colors danced on her ceiling from a hanging
suncatcher. Cast in blues and purples, Calista shivered once in the chilly air
before turning back to the boy. Ghosts always brought the cold with them.
“How can I help you?” Calista asked, her voice coming out with white
puffs of air.
The spirit smiled, a little kid’s smile, although he’d probably been
Calista’s age when he died, thirteen or fourteen, she guessed. “I . . .” the
boy started, and then furrowed his blond brows. “I don’t know,” he said.
“I’ve been looking for someone. . . . I forgot why.”
This was also not unusual. After a while, ghosts began to forget things,
much like the living. Although ghosts were stuck at the age they had been
when they died, they kept . . . going. Imagine spending seventy years as a
fourteen-year-old boy? Calista thought. Yikes.
“Are you looking for your mom?” Calista asked. This was typically the
case with boys, searching for their mother’s care. A kiss on a bruised knee.
The ghost’s face lit up. “Yes,” he said, smiling. “Yes, my mom! Can you
help me find my mom?”
Calista exhaled heavily. She had no idea what time period this boy was
from—it was hard to tell sometimes. With the exception of the ’80s,
hairstyles didn’t change too drastically, especially for boys. And it was
entirely possible that this ghost’s mother had already passed away years
before, and that would make things difficult. Not all of the departed became
ghosts.
Calista noticed the time on her alarm clock and reached to switch it off
before it could sound. “Why don’t you come back after school?”
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