School of Fear
Text Copyright © 2009 by Cat on a Leash, Inc.
Illustrations Copyright © 2009 by Carrie Gifford
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Hachette Book Group
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New York, NY 10017
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www.HachetteBookGroup.com
Little, Brown Books for Young Readers is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
First eBook Edition: September 2009
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-07117-8
Contents
CHAPTER 1: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Mottephobia is the fear of moths
.
CHAPTER 2: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Phasmophobia is the fear of ghosts
.
CHAPTER 4: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Agyrophobia is the fear of crossing the street
.
CHAPTER 5: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Ablutophobia is the fear of washing or bathing
.
CHAPTER 7: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Didaskaleinophobia is the fear of going to school
.
CHAPTER 8: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Optophobia is the fear of opening one’s eyes
.
CHAPTER 9: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Cacophobia is the fear of ugliness
.
CHAPTER 10: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Lachanophobia is the fear of vegetables
.
CHAPTER 11: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Peladophobia is the fear of bald people
.
CHAPTER 11: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Nomatophobia is the fear of names
.
CHAPTER 13: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Ailurophobia is the fear of cats
.
CHAPTER 14: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Logizomechanophobia is the fear of computers
.
CHAPTER 15: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Osmophobia is the fear of smells
.
CHAPTER 16: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Helminthophobia is the fear of being infested with worms
.
CHAPTER 17: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Mastigophobia is the fear of punishment
.
CHAPTER 20: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Atychiphobia is the fear of failure
.
CHAPTER 21: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Mnemophobia is the fear of memories
.
CHAPTER 22: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Somniphobia is the fear of sleep
.
CHAPTER 23: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Autophobia is the fear of being alone
.
CHAPTER 24: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Chirophobia is the fear of hands
.
CHAPTER 25: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Geliophobia is the fear of laughter
.
CHAPTER 26: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Heliophobia is the fear of the sun
.
CHAPTER 27: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Cynophobia is the fear of dogs
.
CHAPTER 28: EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Phobophobia is the fear of phobias
.
For Shamsi
The wilderness outside Farmington, Massachusetts
(Exact location withheld for security purposes)
Direct all correspondence to: PO Box 333, Farmington, MA 01201
Dear Applicant,
I am pleased to inform you of your acceptance to the summer course at School of Fear. As you already know, School of Fear
is an exceedingly select institution, run by the elusive Mrs. Wellington, aimed at eradicating children’s fears through unorthodox
methods. The small group of parents, doctors, alumni, and teachers aware of our existence vigilantly maintain our anonymity.
It is at the discretion of this small group that students are referred. We strongly advise all incoming applicants and their
families only to discuss School of Fear in the confines of their home with the television on, water running, and dog barking.
On behalf of Mrs. Wellington and the entire School of Fear staff, I would like to welcome you.
Warm regards,
Dictated but not read
L
EONARD
M
UNCHAUSER
Lead Counsel to Mrs. Wellington and School of Fear
Munchauser and Son Law Firm
LM/kd
EVERYONE’S AFRAID OF SOMETHING:
Mottephobia is the fear of moths.
A
bell is not a bell. While undeniably constructed out of metal and heralded for its ability to ring, it is actually a great
deal more than that. It’s the taste of barbecue, the feel of sunburned skin from playing outside all day, and the smell of
chlorine from freshly cleaned pools. It’s the promise of football games, sleep overs, and video-game tournaments, all without
the interruption of homework. In short, the bell is the gatekeeper of summer.
At Brunswick School for Girls in the posh Kensington neighborhood of London, a group of twenty uniformed students waited for
the final proclamation that the school year was over. With desperation brimming in their eyes, the girls watched the clock
and waited for the bell. A chorus of petite navy blue shoes, rife with impatience, banged against weathered chairs muting
the teacher’s voice.
Disregarding the teacher was hardly a new trick, but on this particular day, the girls did it with the deft ability of guards
at Buckingham Palace, the fuzzy hat–clad group who refuse to react under any circumstance. With mounting frustration, the
girls wondered if the bell had gone on holiday. It had a history of doing that during exams, oral reports, and other academic
nuisances.
Thoughts of mischief frolicked through nineteen of the twenty girls’ minds; however, in the back of the class, there was one
young girl determined to will the bell
not
to ring. Raven-haired Madeleine Masterson had purposefully chosen her seat for its obstructed view of both the clock and
the bell. Madeleine’s blue eyes darted rapidly as she repeated three simple words, “do not ring,” under her breath. For the
first time in her short life, she had nothing but trepidation and fright for the start of summer.
Normally Madeleine savored summer’s many quiet afternoons spent in the drawing room with a book, puzzle, or Internet-equipped
laptop. Madeleine prided herself on having an above-average understanding of world politics. Most students did not know the
name of Norway’s prime minister, Jens Stoltenberg, but Madeleine did. She also knew, and more impressively could pronounce,
the names of Greenland’s Prime Minister Hans Enoksen, Iceland’s Prime Minister Jóhanna Sigurdar-dóttir, Mauritania’s President
Mohamed Ould Abdey Aziz, Benin’s President Yayi Boni, and so on. Madeleine staunchly believed that all of the one hundred
ninety-two member states represented at the United Nations deserved to be studied.
Madeleine would gladly spend the summer at Brunswick School for Girls if it meant eclipsing her parents’ plan for her. She
would live off the drinking fountain and vending machine; she simply needed to make sure she had enough coins. The idea began
to take shape; Madeleine could ravage the library, devouring books by the armful, skip through the halls, and sleep in the
immaculate infirmary. A summer at Brunswick would be utterly delightful!
Regrettably, Madeleine’s plea to stop the bell was flatly denied at exactly 3:00
PM
. The piercing sound rang through the grand halls of Brunswick, inciting a stampede of girls in sharp navy-and-white uniforms.
Much like the running of the bulls in Pamplona, the rush to leave school was a dangerous event. Luckily, this wasn’t an issue
for twelve-year-old Madeleine. She had long insisted on waiting ten minutes for the children, nannies, and parents to clear
the front of the school before leaving her chair.
On that particular day, Madeleine was so drowning in dread that she lingered in the classroom for an extra forty-five minutes
before exiting. She mentally alphabetized the list of United Nations delegates as a means to pass the time. Madeleine knew
her mother and the driver were waiting; however, she had to summon the courage to face summer. It is a rather lamentable fact
that few can call upon courage with the expediency they can fear. And Madeleine was no exception.
Mrs. Masterson, keenly attuned to her daughter, had expected the delay and brought the
Herald Tribune
to read. Fortunately, she found the plush interior of her chauffeured Range Rover far more relaxing than the couch in her
drawing room. After reading every pertinent story, Mrs. Masterson flipped the newspaper over just in time to see Madeleine
nearing Brunswick’s Victorian-styled main gate. She exited the car as Madeleine emerged from the shadows wearing a netted
veil and a belt of aerosol cans. The young girl wildly sprayed the air around her while speeding toward her mother.
“Hello, darling, how was school?”
“Very well, Mummy, thank you for asking. May I inquire whether the car has been fumigated today?”
“Of course, Maddie.”
“I do hope you’re not fibbing, Mummy. I can tell the difference. My nose is quite discriminating.”
“Fibbing? That is ludicrous. I assure you the car has been thoroughly fumigated today.”
“Thank you, Mummy. Aren’t you going to ask why I am late?”
“No, darling.”
“Very well, then. Now, if you don’t mind, I would very much appreciate a quarrel and subsequent grounding. Perhaps one that
lasted the entire summer, or if necessary, even longer.”
“Don’t be afraid, Maddie; it’s going to be like camp,” Mrs. Masterson said cheerfully.
“I’ve been to the cinema, Mummy! Camps have poorly insulated cabins with spiders, millipedes, and cockroaches that will climb
all over me. I can’t possibly spend the summer in such squalor!”
Madeleine’s intense and obsessive fear of spiders, insects, or bugs of any kind greatly distressed her parents. It was an
all-consuming fear that affected every aspect of her life from school to sleep. In the evenings, Madeleine prayed for a spider-free
night before climbing beneath a canopy of thick mosquito netting. Already shy by nature, Madeleine had a fear of spiders and
bugs that created an additional barrier for her to conquer socially.
