The Haunting of Secrets
Read The Haunting of Secrets Online
Authors: Shelley R. Pickens
Tags: #murder, #memories, #paranormal, #high school, #students, #visions, #stalker, #past, #best friend, #bomb, #explosion, #murdered, #dirty secrets, #tortured, #catch a killer, #hunt down, #one touch
by Shelley R.
Pickens
Published by
Fire and Ice
A Young Adult Imprint of Melange
Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
The Haunting of Secrets, Copyright
2014 Shelley R. Pickens
ISBN: 978-1-61235-930-4
Names, characters, and incidents
depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of
America.
Cover Design by Caroline
Andrus
Table of
Contents
Chapter 2: Everyone That Says School is Hell Isn't
Kidding
Chapter 4: Is This a Hospital or a Prison?
Chapter 5: Gotta Love a Loyal Friend
Chapter 6: The Emergence of a Killer
Chapter 7: Is That a Zombie? Nope, It's Just
Me
Chapter 8: Is This the Love Boat or the
Titanic?
Chapter 9: The Devil is Red For a Reason
Chapter 10: The Best Laid Plans
Chapter 11: Everyone Wears a Mask
Chapter 14: The Road Less Traveled
Chapter 15: No Rest For the Weary
Chapter 20: The Search Continues
Chapter 21: No One Knows What You Did in the
Dark
Chapter 29: The Road Never Travelled
Chapter 32: Portrait of a Killer
“Words have no power to impress the mind
without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
Dedication
For all my favorite students over the years
(you know who you are)—this one is for you. Never stop believing in
the power and beauty of your dreams. You never know when one might
actually come true.
And for Mary Kay Donovan and Kari Manning;
for believing in me even when I didn’t.
THE
HAUNTING OF SECRETS
by Shelley R. Pickens
Are some secrets worth dying for?
Sixteen-year-old Aimee doesn't like to touch
people. One touch and she sees their past. One graze over her skin
and she can see all the good and bad deeds a person has ever done.
It isn't until a bomb explodes during lunch that she realizes
exactly how many dirty secrets the students in her school harbor-or
exactly how far one of them would go to keep his secrets safe.
In the aftermath of that fateful day of the
bombing Aimee is brushed by a fellow student as they are caught in
the mob running for their lives. Images of tortured and murdered
young girls rise up to choke her. The problem is, Aimee doesn't
know who touched her. Somewhere in this school a fellow student is
a killer, and Aimee is the only one that can find him before he
murders again.
With the help of her friends Aimee must sift
through her stolen memories to determine clues. The quest to find a
killer unravels the very fabric of her carefully woven life. He
won't stop until he silences her- for only she knows all his
secrets. She will have to summon all of her inner strength to
decide what she must do: hunt or be hunted. Are some secrets worth
dying for?
Preface
The outside world sees me as Goth. They see a
quiet young girl; her bleach blonde hair dyed black, sporting a
nose ring and no makeup; covered head to toe in clothing. I am
never without gloves on my hands. They whisper behind my back,
thinking up all kinds of crazy mysterious illnesses that could have
possibly ravished my body. Everyone has a theory as to why I choose
every day to wear clothes that cover ninety percent of my body, no
matter what the temperature. The gossip dies down in the winter but
refreshes itself come spring, when all the other girls are wearing
cute, revealing shorts and I am still in my baggy jeans. Well, let
them talk. Nothing they do or say will make me want to tell them
the truth. No one would believe the truth anyway. Besides, I have
had enough truth to last me a lifetime.
So, I embrace a life of isolation. I shun
human contact, afraid to let anyone close. The other kids tease me
relentlessly and call me a freak behind my back, but I don’t care.
If they only knew exactly what kind of freak I am, they would run
the other way and never look back. Since I arrived at this school,
I have encouraged their jeers, happy to do anything to keep them
away from me. I endured the leering looks, the laughs that followed
me in the halls, the ever constant yet not so funny twitter posts
saying I should just go ahead and disappear already. The pity
stares I see on my teachers’ faces. Don’t get me wrong, deep inside
it all hurts. But I was happy in my isolation, comfortable with my
one friend that seemed to not only embrace my persnickety ways, but
to revel in them. For me, that kind of life is normal. It’s not a
matter of fear; it’s all about survival.
It wasn’t until that fateful day at lunch,
when my world exploded, that I realized exactly how many dirty
secrets the students in my school harbored, or exactly how far one
of them would go to keep those secrets safe.
Chapter
One
~ A Killer Among Us ~
Everyone in this school is his minion, his
puppet to do with as he pleases. None of them are as intelligent or
cunning as he is. They pass through these halls in this school
every day, completely oblivious to everything important around
them. All they care about is that the football team wins the
championship. Or who is dating whom this week. Soon, he will be the
most revered and respected student at school. Everyone will want to
be near him; or at least claim they have some relationship with
him, even if it is as noncommittal as sitting next to him in
Spanish class. None can see past his façade. No one knows who he
really is. But what does he care? Their oblivion serves him well.
Without it, he couldn’t do what he really wanted. He couldn’t
pursue his darkest fantasy. This was the perfect life. The life
that he always longed to live and he would do anything to keep it
that way.
Chapter
Two
~ Everyone That Says School is Hell
Isn’t Kidding ~
It’s a normal Wednesday in October when the
world around me is thrown into chaos. Homecoming posters litter the
halls of the school. Outside, leaves scatter and fly about the
campus, blanketing everything in a sheet of crispy brown. There is
nothing unusual in the air. Inside, students fill the halls,
chatting with friends and making their way to their classes. As
usual, I am off by myself, sitting in the corner of a hall studying
for a chemistry exam, invisible to everyone else. Well, almost
everyone else.
“Can you please explain to me why I need to
learn what a mole is, when I know it has absolutely nothing to do
with my dream of becoming Zac Efron’s wife?” asked a tall, dark
haired, brown eyed girl from above me, her figure blocking the
light.
Looking up at her, I sigh. I want to feel
annoyed by the intrusion, but I just don’t have it in me to get mad
at the only friend I have in my life; the friend who not only knows
my secret but, for some unfathomable reason, doesn’t seem to care.
“Well, Dejana, if you actually understood how a mole works, then
you would be able to see how the molecules interact to make Zac
Efron so incredibly hot that it renders him unattainable for the
normal teenage girl. Conversely, that same molecular reasoning
would not allow good old Zac to give you the time of day.”
“Posh,” spit out Dejana, ignoring every word
I just said. “That is simply a piece of science I am more than
willing to overcome.”
I shake my head at her, yet say nothing,
since I truly do wish her dreams would come true for her. Everyone
should have a dream, no matter how unattainable it may be. Dreams
are what keep us moving forward; what gives us hope for the future,
no matter how silly or impractical those dreams may be. I envy
Dejana. At least she has dreams. I have never been able to afford
that luxury. I spend way too much time in the past.
Shaking off the impending melancholy, I turn
my blue eyes to Dejana and say, “Isn’t he dating someone right
now?”
Dejana’s silence tells me everything I need
to know.
“Well, if anyone can turn him on, it would be
you Dejana. And if you need help, I can take care of Zac for ya,
kidnap him even and keep him busy so that he doesn’t go anywhere. I
can tie him up, if that’s what it takes. I would do that for you,
my friend. It would be a hardship, but I’d do it. ”
“That’s my girl,” says Dejana with a smile.
“Now quit sulking and let’s go to math. If we’re late, Mr. Herring
will have our heads.” As usual, Dejana is right.
After enduring a very long morning of math
and chemistry, I am extremely grateful that it’s finally time for
lunch. After grabbing my lunch bag out of my locker, I make my way
down to the cafeteria. I’m late as usual, but I do this on purpose
and for a very good reason. Slowly, I make my way to the doubly
long rectangular table by the attendance office in the corner of
the large common area. The cafeteria is filled with the usual lunch
crowd doing their usual things, which involves more talking and
texting rather than eating. No one had any inkling that their lives
were about to change. Or even worse, about to end. There were no
signs of impending doom, no masked man walking around with a
detonator. It is just a normal day with kids eating their lunch.
And just like in the movies, it happens in an instant.
One minute I am quietly eating my pizza and
breadsticks, when suddenly a loud roar fills my ears and an
invisible hand lifts me up out of my seat and flings me into the
air. It is disorienting, but not really scary at first. It feels
like I am floating, looking down upon the wreckage as if
experiencing it second hand. I am confused at first, thinking maybe
this was some kind of joke; that some mean kid had picked up my
seat and hurled me across the cafeteria. They tended to do that to
me, since I never fight back; never dare to get within ten feet of
them. They think it is out of cowardice. I know better.
The whole world around me is moving in slow
motion. It isn’t until I am hit in the face with a bloody hand
wrenched completely off at the wrist that I realize the roar I had
heard was a bomb. I begin my descent to the hard floor; my body
constantly hitting pieces of table, metal mixed with plastic from
chairs, and chunks of things stained red that I don’t even want to
know where they came from. I hit the ground on my right side and
the contact sends a painful jolt through my shoulder that travels
the length of my body. My gloved hands cover my face to ward off
the feet trampling all around me. The images of body parts flying
through the air and blood spattering on the walls and floor are
seared into my brain. In another life, it could have been art, a
pretty mosaic depicting the tragedies of life. My first instinct is
to avoid, at all possible costs, the touches of the hordes of
people that come my way in a desperate attempt to flee the carnage.
I have no idea where I am in the cafeteria anymore. All I know is
that I have to get out, get away from all those people and from all
of their secrets.
