One Hundred Candles [2] Read Online Free PDF

Annalise believed me, they would always wonder if I wasn’t just a teeny bit mental. After all, I’d never shown any kind of psychic sensitivity in my entire life. And Dad would have flipped out.
    No, I decided, it was best to keep it to myself, to dissect the incident on my own terms, in my own time. This meant that I thought about it constantly every night as I tried to fall asleep, turning my memories over and over like a stone in my head. At first, everything seemed so vivid, so real. I knew it had happened. But as the weeks passed and the feelings faded, I wondered: had it happened exactly as I remembered? Or had I mixed up reality with my dreams?
    If I really had crossed an unseen threshold into the supernatural, shouldn’t something about me be different? I waited to see if my venture to the other side would trigger a new, profound awareness. Would I be able to communicate with spirits? Would I be accosted by creepy corpses? But two months had passed and nothing at all had seemed different about my life until the encounter with Marcus in Ohio.
    “I don’t think Dad knows,” Annalise said as she rubbed at her damp hair. “About Mom’s new friends, I mean. I heard her tell him last night that she was going to do some research today.”
    “So she’s lying to him?” I began chewing at a fingernail.
    “She’s not technically lying. It’s just that her research involves talking to psychics.”
    “Well, if Dad finds out, he’ll technically go ballistic.”
    Annalise gave me a sympathetic look. “I know they’ve been fighting lately. I know it’s hard for you because you’re here and I’m at school. But it’s Mom and Dad. They’ll work it out, okay? I know they will.”
    She walked down the hall to the bathroom while I stayed in her room. Everyone was telling me that things would be fine. I seemed to be the only person who didn’t feel the same way. And my sister had just clarified the reason why: I was home. Annalise was away at school and Shane always returned to his apartment, but I shared a house with my parents and was with them more than anyone else. I saw the way they were avoiding one another. I heard their tense voices. And I suspected that Dad was sleeping on the sofa downstairs, but he was always up so early that I wasn’t completely sure.
    As I pushed myself out of the chair, I accidentally put too much pressure on my arm. I gasped at a sudden surge of pain and sat back down. The doctor had diagnosed me with a severe sprain and a torn ligament. I would have to wear the sling until February. At first, the sling hadn’t bothered me. In fact, I’d thought a little compassionate attention from people might be a good thing. Maybe someone would help carry my books to class, bring me my lunch and that kind of thing. But then I’d caught my parents sneaking glances at me and I’d understood that each of them believed something totally different had caused my injury. The sling provided a constant reminder that they no longer saw eye-to-eye.
    I’d thought I was lucky that my arm hadn’t been broken in the attack.
    Now I worried that the attack was breaking my family.

three
    I wondered how long we had until the police arrived. Avery, Noah and I had been at the New Year’s Eve party for less than fifteen minutes, and I was fairly certain that we had only fifteen more before the cops arrived with their sirens blaring. The music was so loud we heard it when we parked Avery’s car at the end of the cul-de-sac, the thumping bass mixed with the squeals of excited girls and hollers of drunk, stumbling guys.
    “Relax,” Avery yelled over her shoulder as she maneuvered through the crowded living room. I held on to the back of her shirt, afraid I would lose her in the crushing mass of people and hoping no one accidentally slammed into my injured arm. Behind me, Noah had one hand placed firmly on the small of my back. I was acutely aware of the warmth of his palm pressed into me. I liked it, but I knew