Say Cheese - and Die Screaming! Read Online Free PDF Page B

home.”
    “Shari, I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe—”
    She swallowed hard. “Maybe I’ll disappear again, Greg. Maybe I’ll disappear
forever.”
    “No!” I cried. “Don’t say that. Please—”
    We both stared down at the photo. It developed so slowly. First, the yellow
darkened over the white square. I began to see Shari’s face.
    Was she screaming? Was she howling in pain?
    I couldn’t tell.
    The blue tint filled in over the yellow. I could see Shari’s face outlined in
green.
    “You look okay,” I told her. “I think you’re okay.”
    “Wait,” she said softly. She bit her lower lip. She didn’t blink. Her eyes
squinted hard as the red and blue tints spread.
    The picture darkened. Darkened to black.
    I could see Shari’s face clearly now. She wasn’t smiling. She didn’t look
happy. But she wasn’t screaming, either.
    Darker.
    “Hey!” Shari cried. “It’s a negative.”
    “Huh?” I didn’t understand.
    “It’s not a photo,” Shari replied, holding the square up to me. “It’s a
negative. The photo didn’t come out. It’s all reversed.”
    I stared at it. She was right. Everything was reversed.
    “Maybe the camera is broken,” I said. I let out a long sigh of relief.
“You’re okay, Shari. The camera doesn’t work.”
    “Maybe,” she said. She handed me the negative. I slid it into my pocket. When
I looked up, she had a strange smile on her face.
    An evil smile.
    “Shari—what’s your problem?” I asked.
    I should have known. I should have guessed what she planned to do. I should
have moved faster.
    She grabbed the camera with both hands. Spun it around. Pointed it in my
face. And flashed a picture.
    “Hey!” I tried to duck away from the lens.
    Too late. She caught me.
    “Shari—that’s not funny!” I cried.
    “It won’t hurt you,” she replied. “The camera is broken—remember?”
    I pulled the square from the slot in front of the camera.
    My throat suddenly felt dry. Is it broken? I wondered. Will this one be a
negative, too?
    Or will it show me howling in pain with a nail through my foot—or something
even worse?
    As I stared at the small square, my imagination ran wild. I pictured my body
stretched out like a rubber band. I pictured myself tugging at an arrow through
my chest. I pictured myself lying mashed under a huge steamroller.
    “Shari—how could you do this to me?” I groaned, watching the colors darken.
    Her dark eyes flashed. “You’re really scared,” she said. “Admit it, Greg. You’re really scared. Now maybe you get it. Maybe
you see why I didn’t want you to bring the camera to school.”
    My hand trembled. I gripped the snapshot with both hands.
    The colors darkened.
    “It’s not a negative,” I said.
    Shari stepped up behind me and stared down at the photo.
    “Oh, noooo!” we both cried at the same time.
    Shari started to laugh.
    “I don’t believe this!” I wailed.

 
 
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    “This is horrible !” I shrieked.
    I recognized my face. But I didn’t recognize my body.
    At first, I thought my head was resting on top of a giant balloon. Then I
realized that the giant balloon was me.
    In the photo, I weighed about four hundred pounds!
    No joke. Four hundred pounds!
    I gaped at the photo, studying my round face and my even rounder body. I had
about eight chins. My cheeks were puffed way out. The collar of my T-shirt was
hidden under one of my flabby chins. The shirt was stretched tight over my chest
and only came down to my belly, which bulged nearly to the ground.
    I looked like a really gross mountain of pudding!
    “Stop laughing!” I snapped at Shari. “It isn’t funny!”
    “It’s very funny,” she insisted. She grabbed the photo, raised it to her face, and started laughing all over again. “You’re
bigger than Sumo One and Sumo Two!” she exclaimed.
    I grabbed the photo back. I stared at the folds of flab hanging down from my
cheeks. My face was so huge