Young Adult Fiction
Dodie Dunstan died last night," she said.
Strangely, my first thought was that Dodie had a last name. Other than Doorknob, that is. Was that how you talked about a dead person? You used her full name?
Ms. Samuels' voice caught, but she continued. "The police don't suspect foul play."
"That means what?" I asked, confused.
"She offed herself. Suicide," Jaz said, turning his intense stare in my direction for the first time all morning. He pursed his lips, considering. "She seems like the pill type to me. She wouldn't want to see blood.
—Diana, ésta es nuestra casa y nosotros ponemos las reglas. ¡Si te decimos que tienes que estar de regreso a las nueve, ésa es la hora de entrar por la puerta! No hay nada más que hablar —gritó.
Su casa, no li mía, pensé. Por un momento me ardieron los ojos y pensé que iba a llorar, pero logré controlarme, sonreí y dije bajito mirándolo a los ojos:
—Trata de oligarme.
After my brother died, my dad said the nightmares—the ghosts—were all in my mind. That they couldn't hurt me. Turns out he was wrong.
"Wait!" Chancellor Holden cried, and fast as a striking hawk he swooped forward and dragged me up by the front of my tunic.
Even as he swooped, I realized that in the fall, my mother's rings had tumbled out the neck of my shirt. I clutched at them, but too late. Chancellor Holden jerked the heavy chain over my head and held it swinging before them all.
Uncle Jean did the one thing you're never supposed to do in a kayak. He leaned over hard, so that all his weight bore down on one side of the kayak. And Uncle Jean is big. We were about to capsize.
Aunt Daisy's words rang in my head, like a song you can't forget, no matter how hard you try. "Three minutes until you lose sensation in your extremities."
I wriggled my fingers and toes. While I still could.
