Free The Book of Bad Things by Dan Poblocki Page B

the shadowy form only appeared in the reflective glass. For a moment, Millie wondered if she’d dirtied it somehow when she’d sliced her finger.
    Leaning forward, she examined the glass. The darkness was no smudge. It was moving, shifting, as if made up of many smaller parts, threads, lacing and intertwining upon itself. She clutched the edge of the bureau, struggling to breathe. A tremor shook the house again, the light of the bedroom dimming even more. She could barely see her own face in the mirror now. The darkness seemed to expand, tendrils of shadow reaching toward her, as if through the surface of the mirror itself. She felt ice on the thin skin of her neck, a slender black chain snaking around her throat like a noose.
    From the other room, the game show host was making pronouncements about the final round, but Millie couldn’t make out what he said. She didn’t care. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Tears spilled from her burning eyes. She tried to call out to her husband — GEORGE! — but nothing escaped the tightness in her throat. All she could see now was darkness. All she could feel was cold. A tingling in her fingertips. A sense of weightlessness, as if she were falling in slow motion.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” the host’s voice blared moments later from the television, sounding purposely crestfallen. “Let’s see what you could have won.” The audience gasped in disappointment.

I T HAD BEEN A SLOW MORNING , nothing like the one before. Dennis, Deb, and Rose had all left early for work and various errands. Cassidy figured that she and Joey had run Rose through an emotional rinse cycle, and if she had anything else planned for their summer, it would most likely come much later. Now, it was only the two of them left to clean up in silence after breakfast.
    Despite the calm end to the previous day, Joey had finished the evening withdrawn, stuck in his head, ignoring Cassidy almost entirely. Before retiring to her room upstairs, she had caught sight of Ping in the driveway next door with her two brothers and went out to say hello.
    She’d been happy to share her strange day with Ping. When she mentioned the figures she’d seen out in the street the previous night, Ping looked curious but unsurprised. This was a strange state they were living in after all. Cassidy went on about the conversation she’d tried to have with Joey during the art class, then about the visit to the general store, where she’d heard that people had been seeing the ghost of Ursula Chambers. They’d agreed to get together the next day, with Joey or without.
    Outside, the air was misty, the sky covered in thick clouds. Deb had left the Weather Channel blaring from the television in the living room, and once Cassidy had finished loading the dishwasher, she plopped down on the sofa and switched the channel to the Cartoon Network. To her surprise, Joey eventually came over and perched on the other side of the couch. They sat together just like that through a few old episodes of Adventure Time , though several times, Cassidy just stopped herself from leaning over and asking him what he thought about the ghost stories they’d overheard yesterday at Moriarty’s. She was dying to know if he’d woken sporadically in the night like she had, heart pounding, limbs tingling, ears straining to hear shuffling sounds out on the street, but she didn’t want a repeat performance of his art class explosion.
    There was a knock at the sliding door. A dark shadow stood outside on the patio, holding up hands to peer through the glass. Joey groaned, but got up to answer it. He slid open the door and asked, “What the heck do you want?”
    Cassidy sighed. She had hoped he was done taking that tone.
    “Is Cassidy here?” It was Ping.
    Joey nodded toward the living room. Cassidy sat up straight and waved. “Hi!” Ping slipped past Joey and into the kitchen.
    “Sure! Come on in!” Joey said, waving his arms to indicate that he was not