Darkness Conjured Read Online Free PDF

the end of a long haul.
    We passed Luke’s, the old drive-in theater and the new mall. I gave him directions to my
neighborhood when we passed the Baptist Church.
    “Best I don’t go to your door. We’ll wait until the right time,” he told me when we drove over the city line.
     He dropped me off at the end of my street. He kissed me goodbye.
    “I’ll see you,” He told me. “Friday.”
    I climbed onto the walk. My dress had risen above my hips. I tugged it down and
then ran my hands through my tousled hair. I turned and saw old Mrs. Beldin
peering out her window. I hoped she wouldn’t talk to my parents anytime soon, mention the truck with the odd painting
flanking it, or its driver—leaning over to kiss me. I hoped she wasn’t planning on calling everyone she knew to tell them Barry Fiano’s daughter was whoring with the truckers from Luke’s.
    I told myself it didn’t matter, that Ken and I had something special. I watched his truck move away,
pretending I wasn’t being scrutinized by the town gossip. I felt soreness between my legs and
hoped to God that things would be alright.
    I walked home, feeling in love with Ken, smelling his scent on my skin, but
something inside me said everything wasn’t going to be alright.

    *     *     *

    I’m thinking about the phantom girl Linda saw. Linda swears she’ll never try to open her window again, but I don’t think sealed windows, or doors, can keep out evil.
    Linda and Lacey carry their trays back to the kitchen. They’re chatting softly to each other. They pass Patrick Lamont. He doesn’t seem to notice them. He doesn’t seem to notice anything.
     Flora, a girl with straight red hair and freckles sprinkled across her nose sits
next to me. She’s only sixteen.
    “Meg, I found something,” she tells me with an excited voice.
    “What?” I ask, my eyes darting to a girl sitting a few tables over—Marcy Long.  She’s bullied Flora before, stealing clothes from her closet and money from her
bureau. I think she’s the one who messed with my things. Can’t prove it though. She’s holding up her arm, looking thoughtfully at a gold bracelet on her wrist. I
wonder who she stole it from. I wonder if a knife is tucked in her boot or up
her sleeve.
    “It’s her second baby. First one was stillborn,” Flora shakes her head. “She was at Juvie before this. Dealing with her pimp boyfriend got her there.
Probably lost the baby from the dope and shit.”
    “Probably,” I tell her as I watch Marcy sip her milk. She’s just a young girl. No more than sixteen or seventeen. How did things turn out
so bad for her? Now I look at Flora. Marcy hurt her. She hurt other girls, too.
I refuse to feel pity. “So what were you going to tell me?”
    “I found a Ouija board.” Flora says in between mouthfuls of food. “I was in the library last night, looking for a book about The Beatles. Nothing
there but a picture book of John Lennon’s art. Then I figured I’d try to find Rosemary’s Baby . I was checking out stuff on a bookcase in the corner. Found the board behind
some Sci-Fi novels. It’s old. Looks like somebody stashed it there a long time ago. It was late, nobody
else was up. I brought it to my room.”
    “Those things are creepy,” I tell her. “My sister, Beth, had one in college. Told me she burnt it because it spooked
her. Never went into details, but she looked scared when she talked about it.” Patrick Lamont looks our way and then begins to make his way out of the dining
room. He reaches the door leading into the hall and then seems to blend into
shadows cast by the large potted plants flanking the walls.
    “If you ask for only good spirits to come through then it’s alright.” Flora watches Marcy pour orange juice into a plastic glass. “Come by later if you want.”
    “Alright, later.”
    “Ok,” says Flora as she turns her full attention to her breakfast. She’s just a little girl. I hope she’ll find