How I Got My Shrunken Head Read Online Free PDF

someone
magic?
    I kept thinking about it and thinking about it. I struggled to remember more about her visit.
    But I couldn’t.
    I knew that Carolyn and Dr. Hawlings had made a terrible mistake.
I’ll tell them in the morning,
I decided.
I’ll tell them they got the wrong kid.
    A terrible mistake … terrible mistake.
The words repeated in my mind.
    I sat up. No way I could get to sleep. My brain wouldn’t let me. I was wide-awake.
    I decided to take a walk around the headquarters building. Maybe explore back where the trees grew thick and the jungle started.
    I crept to the screen door and peered out. My little cabin stood at the end of the row. I could see the other cabins from my door. All dark. Kareen, Carolyn, and Dr. Hawlings had gone to sleep.
    Cawwww cawwwww.
The strange cry repeated in the distance. A soft wind made the tall grass bend and shift. Tree leaves rustled, making a whispering sound.
    I was wearing a long, baggy T-shirt pulled down over boxers.
No need to get dressed,
I decided.
No one else is awake. Besides, I’ll just take a very short walk.
    I slipped into my sandals. Pushed open the screen door. And stepped outside.
    Cawwww cawwwww.
The cry sounded a little closer.
    The night air felt hot and wet, nearly as hot as during the day. A heavy dew had fallen, and my sandals slid over the damp, tall grass. The wet grass tickled my feet through the sandals.
    I made my way past the silent, dark shacks. To my right, the trees bent and swayed. Black shadows against a purple sky. No moon. No stars tonight.
    Maybe taking a walk is a bad idea,
I told myself.
Maybe it’s too dark.
    I need a flashlight,
I realized. I remembered Carolyn’s warning earlier when she showed me where I would sleep. “Never go out at night without a flashlight. At night,” she had warned me, “we are not in charge here. At night, this is the creatures’ world.”
    The back of the headquarters building loomed ahead of me. I decided to turn around.
    But before I could turn, I realized I wasn’t alone.
    In the semidarkness, I saw a glint: a pair of eyes staring back at me.
    I gasped. A chill ran down my back.
    Staring hard through the purple night, I saw another pair of eyes.
    And then another and another.
    Dark eyes, staring at me without moving, without blinking.
    Dark eyes, on top of each other.
    I froze. I couldn’t move.
    I knew that I was trapped. There were too many of them. Too many.

11
    My legs trembled. Chill after chill rolled down the back of my neck.
    And as I stared at the eyes, the dark eyes in pairs, eyes on top of eyes — as I stared at them, they began to glow.
    Brighter. Brighter.
    And in the golden light, I saw that these were not creature eyes.
    These were not animal eyes.
    These were human eyes.
    I stared at the glowing eyes of a hundred shrunken heads!
    A pile of shrunken heads. All heaped together. Heads like tight fists, mouths curled into snarls or open in toothless horror.
    Heads on heads. Dark and wrinkled and leathery.
    So terrifying in the cold golden glow from their eyes.
    I uttered a choked cry — and took off.
    My legs felt rubbery and weak. My heart pounded in my chest. I ran around the headquarters building, the yellow glow fading slowly from my eyes. I ran as fast as I could. To the front of the dark building. To the screen door.
    Gasping for breath, I pulled open the door. And leaped inside.
    I pressed my back against the wall and waited. Waited for the eerie glow to fade completely. Waited for my heart to stop racing, for my breathing to slow.
    After a minute or two, I began to feel a little calmer.
    Those heads,
I wondered.
Why are they piled back there like that?
    I shook my head hard, trying to lose the ugly picture of them.
They were all people once,
I realized.
Hundreds of years ago, they were people.
    And now …
    I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight and dry.
    I started across the room to the refrigerator.
I need something cold to drink,
I told myself. I bumped the edge of the lab