The First Horror Read Online Free PDF

“I mean, everyone isn’t as lucky as Cally.” “I’m the lucky one,” James broke in. “I got Cubby. And he’s all mine.” “Okay, Dad. I’ll do it,” Kody decided, smiling for the first time that evening. “Great. Now, carve the roast beef, dear,” Mrs. Frasier said impatiently to her husband.
    Mr. Frasier climbed to his feet and bent over the meat platter, fork in one hand, carving knife in the other. “This meat looks perfect,” he said. “It’ll be cold if we don’t eat it soon,” Cally’s mother urged. She raised her eyes to Cally. “Would you do me a favor? I forgot the salt and pepper shakers. They’re in the kitchen.” “Okay.” Cally slid her chair back and started making her way around the table. “Don’t step on Cubby!” James warned. “Where is that puppy anyway?” Mrs. Frasier asked. “Under the table,” James replied. “He’s licking my shoe.” James giggled. “We have to teach that dog not to bother us while we’re eating,” Mr. Frasier said, leaning over to slice the meat. “You can’t let a puppy develop bad habits.” Cally pressed back against the wail to squeeze behind her father’s chair to get to the kitchen. She was nearly past him when she saw him lift the knife to start to carve. But then Mr. Frasier jerked forward as if being shoved. His eyes bulged wide with shock. And the knife blade plunged deep into his side.

Chapter 6
    “Owww!” Mr. Frasier let out a wail. The carving knife fell and landed heavily on the floor. Cubby went scampering away. “Cally—you pushed me!” Mr. Frasier cried. “No!” Cally exclaimed, raising her hands to her face as she backed away. She watched a bright red circle of blood form on the side of her father’s shirt. “You shoved my arm!” Mr. Frasier accused her, gripping his side. “No! I—I didn’t touch you!” Cally told him. “Really, Daddy. There’s no way I could have shoved the knife into you.” “I know, but …” Mr. Frasier’s voice trailed off. “He’s bleeding!” James announced. “Yuck! Look at it!” Mrs. Frasier was on her feet. She grabbed her husband’s arm. “Stop arguing with Cally. Let’s get you upstairs and get that shirt off. See if you need stitches.” “Stitches?” Mr. Frasier’s eyes were unfocused behind his glasses. He didn’t seem to understand what Mrs. Frasier was telling him. Is he in shock? Cally wondered. She leaned her back against the dining room wall as she stared at the widening circle of blood on her father’s shirt. Why did he accuse me of pushing him? Blood dripped onto the floor as Mrs. Frasier led her husband out of the dining room. Cally turned her gaze on Kody. To her surprise Kody was still in her chair and had a terrified expression on her face. “It was a ghost,” she murmured. “A ghost pushed his arm, I know it.”
    “Why did you say it was a ghost?” Cally demanded. “Huh?” Kody narrowed her eyes at her sister. It was later that night, after eleven. Cally had just finished writing her diary entry. Kody had wandered into her room to chat.
    Their parents had returned from the emergency room at Shadyside General at about nine. Now they were in their room, asleep. Cally was sprawled on her bed, wearing the long striped nightshirt she liked to sleep in. Kody, still dressed, sat on the windowsill, a light breeze through the open window fluttering her hair. “When Daddy stabbed himself, you said it was a ghost,” Cally reminded her sister. Kody crossed over and sat down on the foot of Cally’s bed. “Poor Daddy—he needed twelve stitches.” Cally pulled herself up higher against the headboard. “Answer my question,” she insisted. “Why did you think it was a ghost?” “Well, you didn’t shove Daddy’s arm. I saw you, Cally. You didn’t even come close to him. So …” Cally groaned. “So that made you automatically think it was a ghost?” Kody’s cheeks darkened to scarlet. “I felt a presence in the room, Cally,” she said,