Free Secrets 01 Secrets in the Attic by V. C. Andrews Page A

end? There had to be something we could do. I sat there feeling so helpless and trapped myself until my gaze fell on my bookcase, and a collection of short stories popped out at me. It really wasn't meant for me. It was Jesse's book, but it had gotten mixed up and put in my room. From time to time, I read some of it. The collection was called Campfire Chills. It was supposed to be a collection of scary stories told around a campfire. Most of them were silly to me, but there was one that sprang to mind as if it had been written on springs.
I jumped up and pulled the book off the shelf, turning to the story quickly and rereading it with the speed of someone looking for a word clue.
Yes, I thought. Why not? It was easy to substitute Mr. Pearson for the character in the story and easy to substitute Karen and myself for another. We would do the same thing. I practically lunged at my phone to call her.
Her mother answered.
"You were just here, weren't you?" she asked me. "Yes, Mrs. Pearson, but there was one important thing about the schoolwork I forgot to tell Karen."
"Oh," she said. "Just a moment."
I waited, knowing Karen would have to come down the stairs to talk to me unless her mother permitted her to pick up the phone in her and Mr. Pearson's bedroom. She apparently didn't, because it took a while for Karen to pick up.
"What?" she finally said.
"I have an idea, a solution to your problem," I said. "It could really work."
She was silent.
"And what would that be?" she finally asked.
"I have something for you to read tomorrow, and then we'll talk about it, okay?"
"I see. Yes, thanks for calling. I'll see you on the bus," she said, and hung up.
That's all right, I told myself. I wasn't upset at all at how abruptly she had ended our conversation. It didn't mean she was angry or upset at me for still talking and thinking about the things she had told me. It probably just meant her mother was standing close by and listening to our conversation.
I put the short story collection into my school bag so there would be no chance of my forgetting it in the morning.
She'll like this idea, I thought. After all, she was the one who called her home Pretend Central, wasn't she?
I felt relieved, excited. I fit the definition of a best friend, after all.
I could help her.

5 All Alone at the Bates Motel
    "I understand what you're suggesting," she told me on the bus after school. I had given her the book in the morning, and she had read the story during a study hall period. "I think it's dangerous."
    She looked out the window. When I had awoken in the morning, it was the first thing that came into my mind, and the light of morning, the beginning of a new day, had a way of making exciting ideas a lot less exciting. It's as if the sunlight illuminates all the obstacles you missed in the darkness.
    And as she said, the dangers.
"I know," I said in a loud whisper. "I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you upset and frightened and when this came to mind, I had to call you."
She spun around, her eyes narrow and cold.
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it. I just said it's dangerous. It might not be a bad idea."
She looked out again.
I could feel the blood rushing into my face. She would actually consider doing it? Of course, I would help in any way I could, but now that I had proposed it and she was actually considering it, fear and terror were like leeches on my body, sucking out my courage.
"Really?"
"We'll talk about it later. Can you come to my house tonight?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I'll come over right after dinner."
"Good," she said, and continued to look out the window. "Good," I heard her whisper.
What have I done? I suddenly wondered. Maybe I was giving her false hope. Maybe I was getting myself into deep trouble. If it all went wrong, my parents would be devastated. My brother would hate me, too. A part of me wanted to pull back, to say it was really just a silly idea, we couldn't do this, but another part of me was truly impressed that I had come up with