I Live in Your Basement Read Online Free PDF

good-bye to the girl with hiccups.
    “Hic Hic Hic,” she said. I think her problem was getting worse!
    “Doctors know what’s best,” Mom said, hurrying across the parking lot after
me.
    I climbed into the car and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m perfectly
okay, Mom,” I told her through gritted teeth. “My brain is totally normal. I’ll
never see that boy Keith again. He’s gone forever. I know he is. I’ll never see
or hear him again.”
    But of course I was wrong.

 
 
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    Mom said not to worry about losing my brain. She said we’d wait a few days
before deciding what to do.
    That made me feel a lot better.
    That night, I was writing a homework assignment on my computer. Miss Mosely
had given us a creative writing assignment. We had to write a story from someone
else’s point of view.
    I decided to write about a typical day from Tyler’s point of view. It was fun
to try to get inside the mind of a dog.
    A dog has an IQ of ten. That’s what I learned on one of those science shows on
TV. A ten IQ isn’t very smart. You can’t figure too many things out with an IQ
of ten. That’s why Tyler always looks confused and surprised.
    That’s why he can spend ten minutes barking at a plastic trash bag.
    I leaned over my keyboard, typing away. I was enjoying myself. I don’t usually like to write papers, but this was a fun
assignment.
    When the phone rang, I groaned and kept typing. I waited for Mom to pick it
up downstairs. But she didn’t.
    I stood up and walked over to the phone on my bed table. A chill froze the
back of my neck.
    Was it him? Was it Keith?
    I remembered the first time he had called. The day I’d been hit on the head.
    My hand grabbed the phone, but I didn’t pick it up. I couldn’t decide what to
do. I didn’t want to talk to him again. I wanted him to disappear.
    On the sixth ring, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
    “Hi, Marco. It’s me.”
    Another chill ran down the back of my neck. Then I recognized the voice.
“Jeremy?”
    “Yeah. Hi. What’s up?”
    “Jeremy?” I repeated.
    “Yeah. You okay, Marco? I just wondered how you were doing.”
    “Oh. I’m okay,” I told him. I sat down on the edge of my bed. “I’m feeling
all right. I’m working on the creative writing assignment.”
    “Yeah. Me too,” Jeremy replied. “Whose point of view did you choose?”
    “My dog’s,” I replied.
    He laughed. “I’m writing about my cat!”
    “You think everyone in class chose an animal?” I asked. “That would be
funny.”
    We talked and laughed about stuff for a while. Talking to Jeremy cheered me
up. I was starting to feel really normal again.
    “I’d better get back to work,” I said after a few more minutes. I set down
the phone and crossed the room to my computer.
    I started to sit down—but stopped when I saw the monitor screen.
    My writing—my words—had all disappeared.
    A face stared out at me from the screen.
    Keith’s face!
    “No—!” I let out a cry.
    And a powerful arm slid around my neck from behind. And began to tighten
around my throat.

 
 
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    “Unnnnh.”
    I struggled to breathe.
    The arm tightened around me.
    I tossed up my hands. Spun around hard.
    And gaped at Gwynnie.
    She stepped back, grinning.
    “Huh?” I choked out. “What’s the big idea?”
    Her grin grew wider. “Did I scare you?”
    “No,” I replied, still breathing hard. “I’m used to people sneaking in and
strangling me from behind.”
    She laughed. “I wanted to surprise you. Guess I don’t know my own strength.”
    “Sure you do,” I muttered, rubbing my neck. “What are you doing here,
Gwynnie?”
    She dropped down heavily onto my desk chair. “Actually, I came to apologize.”
    “Huh?” My mouth dropped open.
    “Really,” she insisted. She used both hands to brush her thick black hair
back over her broad shoulders. “I felt bad about my joke in class today. You know. About hitting
you on the head again.”
    “Yes. I