The Final Nightmare Read Online Free PDF

these worried looks. I was relieved to hear Dad’s step on the stairs.
    â€œSally was really out,” he said, coming into the kitchen. “She never even opened her eyes.”
    Then he stopped, seeing the expression on Mom’s face. “What’s up?” he asked, cocking his head worriedly at me.
    But Mom spoke first. “I came in and found Jason and his friends nailing the basement door shut,” she said.
    Dad’s face fell. I noticed he had dark circles under his eyes, too. He sat down at the table. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning,” he said.
    It was a long afternoon. I told them everything. No matter how crazy it sounded I went ahead and told about it.
    My stomach was in knots. I could tell they didn’t believe me. They were trying to look understanding but the strain of it kept breaking through.
    I felt like I was beating my brains out on a wall of soft pillows.
    Finally Dad stood up. “Well, there’s one thing we can check,” he said. “This witch of yours is still nailed in the basement, right? Let’s go find her.”

14
    Dad got his big torch flashlight out of the car.
    He pried the nails out of the door and headed down without hesitation. I followed, feeling queasy.
    It was different going down there with Dad. For one thing his big light cut through the gloom like a knife through butter. All the junk looked lifeless and ordinary.
    And I knew the witch would never show herself to Dad. I could feel those eyes burning holes in our backs as we picked our way through the junk. I could almost hear her cackling silently.
    Dad shone his light into every corner but we didn’t see a thing. No ghosts. Not even a mouse.
    â€œWhat about the attic, Dad,” I said when we were back in the kitchen with the basement door closed and bolted. “You can see what she’s capable of up there.” I was pretty sure from things that happened before, that Bobby couldn’t fix things the witch did on her own.
    â€œOkay, son. Let’s take a look.”
    He marched all the way upstairs to the attic. I followed—my stomach felt rotten and my knees were shaky, but I couldn’t let him go up there alone.
    â€œI don’t believe it!” Dad said, stepping into the attic.
    The walls were still smashed up and there was broken plaster everywhere. So I hadn’t imagined this attack, that was for sure.
    My dad looked stunned and baffled as he examined the wreckage.
    â€œSee, Dad?” I couldn’t help being a little excited. “Now do you believe me? Now do you see how dangerous it is in this house?”
    â€œI see that something very strange has been going on,” he said slowly. “This is awful. This kind of destruction is very serious.”
    He thought I did it!
    â€œBut Dad—”
    â€œLet’s go downstairs, son. We’ll talk about this later.”
    I shivered, feeling cold from the roots of my hair to my toes.
    Nobody said much at supper.
    I wasn’t hungry—the hamburgers tasted like sawdust to me. My brain was numb and I didn’t know what to say.
    I escaped to my room as soon as I could.
    After a while I heard Mom and Dad go into the living room. They were talking in quiet, urgent voices and I knew they were talking about me.
    I opened my door and snuck down the hallway to the stairs.
    â€œI can’t believe Jason would deliberately smash up the attic,” said Mom. “He’s not like that. And what about the baby-sitter? She thought she saw something, too.”
    â€œI can’t believe Jason would do it, either,” Dad admitted. “But what other explanation is there? You’re not saying you believe all this nonsense about a haunted house?”
    â€œNo, of course not. All I’m saying, Dave, is that I think we should move to another place for the rest of the summer. Ghosts or no ghosts, something weird is going on in this house.”
    â€œI