The Foreshadowing Read Online Free PDF

feeling, and not a nice one, to hear her say exactly what I knew she was going to say, just a moment or so before the words actually left her lips.
    “One such symbol that occurs in many mythologies, including the Greek, the Celtic and the Norse, is that of the raven. It has become a symbol of the battlefield, a harbinger of ill omen and death. Why? Because the raven is a carrion bird, and would have flocked to feed on the corpses of the Greek and Trojan warriors.”
    The raven.
    That was my dream.
    I saw a raven swooping down toward my face, all black beak and claws and feathers. The bird clawed at my face, and I felt its feathers brush my hair, smelt their mustiness. It came back to me so strongly as I sat there that I was unaware of anything else, and even Miss Garrett’s words came to me as if over a great distance. I felt as unreal as if I was a figure in a photograph, in black and white, not a person at all.
    Though there were four other people in the room, I felt utterly alone.

86

    As I was leaving Miss Garrett’s yesterday, I asked her if I could borrow a copy of The Iliad.
    She looked a bit surprised.
    “I didn’t think you were interested,” she said coldly. “You appeared rather distracted in class.”
    “Miss?” I said, not knowing what to say. “Could you lend me a copy, please? I would like to do some more reading.”
    I don’t think she believed me entirely, but after the other girls had gone she led me into a different room, one I have never seen before. Every inch of wall was lined with bookshelves. Only the windows and the fireplace were not devoted to books. She pulled the curtains to let in some more light and began scanning the shelves.
    “The primers we use in class are a little dry. They miss out on so much,” Miss Garrett was saying.
    She stood on a small stool and pulled a book from a high shelf.
    “Here we are,” she said. “This was my copy when I was your age. You can borrow it.”
    She handed me the book.
    “There’s not just The Iliad in there. There’re many other stories from the Greek myths too. I hope you will enjoy it.”
    I nodded.
    “I’ll take good care of it,” I said, and she smiled.
    I got home a little while ago.
    I thought about the dozens—in fact, hundreds—of books on her shelves, and felt proud that she was happy for me to take the little leather-bound edition that belonged to her.
    I’ve been reading it in bed. I thought I was looking for something, but I realize now I just wanted to read a good story, to escape from everything that’s been happening in my head. The stories are full of deaths, awful deaths, and battles and tragedy, but somehow it’s comforting. It reminds me that what’s going on, what Edgar’s been seeing, is not so unusual. And that reminds me that one day, things will be normal again. Things will be all right, if we all try hard enough to make them that way.

85

    Edgar came home yesterday. The first we knew was when he sent a telegram from Folkestone to say he was about to catch a train to Brighton. Even if we got in touch with Tom now, by the time he gets here Edgar may have gone again.
    As much as Mother wants her family to be together again, a part of me thinks that maybe it’s for the best, really.
    It was very late when Edgar arrived. Mother said I couldn’t wait up any longer and sent me to bed, but of course I couldn’t sleep. I heard him arrive sometime after the clock in the hall had struck twelve. I heard Mother’s voice, high with excitement but not loud, and then Edgar’s and Father’s voices, deep and quiet.
    He went to bed after just a few words—I heard him come up the stairs. He went along the landing on the floor below me to the bathroom.
    Something felt different.
    I wanted to see him, but I hesitated and listened as he came out of the bathroom and back to his old room again. I knew Mother would be cross, but I crept out of my room and looked down the stairs to the landing.
    “Edgar!” I whispered,