The Forbidden Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

sustained and prolonged contact
with my cheer squad. I survived Calculus, barely, and Computer Programming,
with Lucy's expert help—the hacker genius that she was— and a few other classes
not worth mentioning, and finally made it to my favorite class. All of us had
an advisor with whom we met once a week to practice our para-power skills. I
had Mr. K.
    His normally angst-ridden self seemed more angsty than usual
today, if his all-black wardrobe and scowl were any indication. Still, my face
lit up when he walked into the studio five minutes late.
    He dropped his black leather satchel by his desk and sat
down with a dramatic thud. "Sorry I'm late. It's been... a day."
    "No problem. I'm just glad this is my last class until
tomorrow."
    He grunted and turned to pull out a sheet. "I'd hoped
we could talk more about your painting and the art contest, but Higgins called
me into his office and said I had to turn in an evaluation of you—immediately.
That's why I'm late, if you care."
    My heart skipped a beat. "Evaluations aren't due for
months. Is everything all right?"
    The vein above his eye popped out, and his fist clenched the
paper as if it were something evil to be destroyed. "Is anything ever okay
when it comes to this place?"
    "Mr. K, why do you hate it here so much? Isn't this
your dream job?"
    The noise that came out of his throat didn't sound human.
"More like nightmare. But I can't really talk about this, Sam. I'd get us
both in trouble. And don't go probing my mind for secrets; you won't find
anything helpful, just a few new expletives that a young lady such as yourself
shouldn't use."
    His glare challenged me to defy him, but I knew better. The
few times I'd slipped into his mind uninvited hadn't ended well for either of
us. I'd been in messy minds, tidy minds, perverse minds, but none as chaotic
and terrifying as Mr. K's. Undoubtedly serial killers had worse minds, but they
couldn't have been that much worse. Mr. K didn't just play the part of a dark
and brooding artist; he'd created the part. His mind contained hidden corners
that were best left to his mental cobwebs. There's a fine line between genius
and madness, and while Mr. K was harmless, he wasn't entirely sane.
    When I made no move to speak, he nodded and continued.
"Today, you're going to draw what's in my mind, and, based on how well you
do, I'll grade you for this ridiculous evaluation. Okay? Don't worry, I'll keep
my mind calm for the assignment."
    "Um, sure." His mind didn't frighten me when I had
permission and stayed within the boundaries provided. This actually seemed a
bit easy, but whatever. I reached for my bag to grab my supplies.
    He put a hand up to stop me. "I have something for
you."
    He handed me a brown leather-bound sketchbook that looked
well-used and smelled of old places and history. A round emblem, made of gold,
was pinned to the cover. Its intricate shape reminded me of one of those
meditation circles, but with a more elaborate design. The pages inside spoke to
me in their own language, teasing me with drawings yet to be sketched. It even
had a special compartment in the front for my pencils, and the paper looked
like it could be refilled. I loved it immediately.
    I pulled out the pencil already held there and opened the
book up to the second page, saving the short dedication he'd written on the
first page for a later read.
    The chair underneath him squeaked as he pulled it forward so
that we were uncomfortably close to each other. "Sam, it's important that
you keep this sketchbook, and this sketch, safe. Do you understand?"
    I nodded, though I didn't really understand his urgency, and
poised my pencil to begin sketching.
    He closed his eyes and I dipped into his mind. Humans don't
think in linear thoughts, not usually. Most of the time people's minds are
crowded with a blend of words, images, emotions, sensations and subconscious
whispers. I spent a lot of years learning how to fill in the blanks and make
sense of things in a way