Hysteria Read Online Free Page B

to a bus, dragging my luggage behind me. There were so many people,
     and nobody paused to give me a second look. Most people here never even gave me a
     first look. As I boarded the bus for the middle of nowhere, New Hampshire, I thought
     that maybe my parents were right. Maybe a fresh start was all I needed.
    Maybe next time I went home the grout between the tiles would be dirty and I wouldn’t
     see the outline of Brian’s body. Maybe my parents wouldn’t flinch when I reached for
     a steak knife. Maybe Colleen would be allowed to see me. Maybe Brian’s mom would move
     away.
    I was downright saturated with the hope of the Maybes when the bus screeched to a
     halt in the middle of the road a few hours later.
    The doors opened and the light flickered on inside, making the dusk outside seem even
     darker. “Monroe,” the driver announced, with his finger extended down a fork in the
     road. “This is as close as I get.”
    I walked down the steps, and he pulled my bags out from the storage area underneath.
     “Quarter mile down the road, honey.”
    The bus shifted into gear and rumbled away. I couldn’t see anything past the curve
     in the road ahead of me.
    Maybe.
    An engine idled nearby, and though I couldn’t see the car, a horrible chill ran down
     my neck and across my shoulders. I was convinced it was pine green. I was convinced
     it was waiting for me.
    I walked along the shoulder of the road, which wasn’t really a shoulder at all, just
     the cracked, uneven edge where pavement ended and the woods began. I walked against
     traffic like I was taught, but it probably wouldn’t make a difference. The road was
     too narrow and the curve too sudden for a car to maneuver around me in time. So I
     walked fast, listening for the sound of oncoming cars. But the only sound I heard
     was the idling engine. Waiting.
    I reached the corner and rounded it quickly and the car took off, a blur of red taillights
     and nothing else. The only thing waiting for me was the gate ahead, the ivy creeping
     upward, gripping the iron bars.
    The scarlet M looming over top, just for me.

 
     
    Chapter 3
    D usk was darker in the woods than on the coast. Too many trees to see the horizon.
     Light filtered through at odd angles, stretching and distorting the shadows. There
     were two archways carved into the gate, which made the whole gate thing kind of pointless.
    I walked through the one on the left, which was narrower than I’d thought, and I felt
     myself shrinking down as I passed through it. In front of me, the brick walkway diverged
     into three paths snaking through the trees and the buildings. I couldn’t see where
     anything led, so I rested my luggage against the iron bars, took out my cell phone,
     and held it toward the sky.
    “Come on, come on,” I mumbled. I probably should’ve cleared this with Dad after all.
     I’d been so preoccupied with the getting away part that I hadn’t thought about what
     to do when I actually arrived. I paced to the other end of the gate, walked back through
     it, around it, and finally stood on a stone bench. Still no signal.
    The wind blew strongly and I nearly lost my footing on the edge of the bench. Leaves
     rustled and a flag whipped around on the top of the building to my right. And then
     a vision came waltzing down the middle path. Brown hair, bouncing. Hips swaying. My
     heart skipped a beat and I thought, Colleen.
    But it wasn’t Colleen. This girl had a splattering of freckles across her nose and
     overarched eyebrows, and when the shadows shifted and the light hit her hair, I could
     tell it was more red than brown. I hopped off the bench. And then another girl came
     skipping after her. Skinny and blond and all frail boned. Just a wisp of a person.
    “It’s a dead zone. Because of the mountains,” said the girl with the curls. “That’s
     what they tell us anyway. Seems awfully convenient.” Then she extended a short, manicured
     finger in the direction of the bus