Free Bad Moonlight by R.L. Stine Page B

snickered and tossed his rolled-up napkin at Danielle.
    â€œHa, ha, Cliff.” Danielle caught the napkin, jumped up from the table, and stuffed it down the back of her brother’s T-shirt.
    â€œYou jerk!” he cried. He reached behind himself and struggled to pull the napkin out.
    Aunt Margaret pulled it out for him. “Cliff—out!” she ordered, rolling her eyes at Danielle. “Go out in the yard and work off some of that energy while I talk to your sister.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to do out there,” Cliff complained.
    Aunt Margaret sighed. “Cliff, you built a fort out of cardboard boxes yesterday. Don’t tell me you’re tired of it already.”
    â€œOh, right—the fort,” Cliff remembered. “Okay. I’m outta here.” He dashed out the back door, making machine-gun noises as he left.
    Danielle stacked their lunch plates and carried them to the dishwasher. It felt good to be back in her own house, especially the kitchen. She loved the big square room with its cream-tiled floor, round oak table, and hanging plants in the window over the sink.
    â€œNow,” Aunt Margaret coaxed, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”
    Danielle poured soap powder into the dishwasher.“I’ve just been feeling so strange,” she replied. “And I keep having these horrible fantasies—people fighting, tearing each other to bits. Dying!”
    She slammed the dishwasher closed and turned it on. “I love being in the band, and I hate to let the others down. But maybe I should quit.”
    Aunt Margaret raised a heavily penciled eyebrow. “You’re not a quitter, Danielle.”
    â€œI know!” Danielle cried. “But I keep thinking if I went to college now, instead of next year, then maybe things would change.”
    Aunt Margaret blew on her coffee and took a sip. A film of bright red lipstick came off on the cup. “Here’s what I think,” she announced. “You should take it easy for a while. When’s your next show?”
    â€œIn a couple of days.”
    â€œGood. Then you’ll have some time to clear your mind,” Aunt Margaret declared. “Of course, you’ll have to rehearse. But no traveling. So do some shopping, go to the movies, sleep till noon if you want. Then see how you feel.”
    â€œI already know how I feel!” Danielle exclaimed. “Scared. No, not scared—terrified! Aunt Margaret, these fantasies keep getting more and more violent. And I keep thinking about Mom and Dad. A lot.”
    â€œDidn’t Dr. Moore say that was to be expected?” Aunt Margaret asked. “That it would take time to get over what happened?”
    â€œYeah, but it’s taking too much time,” Danielle insisted. “I don’t just miss them, Aunt Margaret. Icould stand that, I guess. But I keep seeing them—picturing the car flying off the cliff. Why? Why can’t I get it out of my mind?”
    Aunt Margaret frowned sadly and shook her head.
    â€œTell me again about the accident,” Danielle begged. “I want to know exactly what happened. I want to know every single detail. Maybe I need to keep hearing about it until I’m sick of it or something.”
    Aunt Margaret clicked her tongue. “It isn’t good to keep dwelling on these things.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œNo buts.” Aunt Margaret crossed to Danielle and put her arm around her. “I’m no expert, but I simply can’t believe that hearing about your parents’ accident over and over again is going to help you one bit.”
    Was she right? Danielle wondered. Maybe. But not hearing about the accident wasn’t helping, either. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, no matter how hard she tried.
    â€œOh, look at the time!” Aunt Margaret exclaimed. “I’ve got laundry to fold and errands to run, and it’s