The Guardian of Threshold Read Online Free PDF

We talked about the usual stuff, and since nothing ever really happened in Stoneham, the whole school was abuzz about who had called in the fake bomb threat and what had caused the fire alarm to go off. Some people speculated there was a bomb after all and it had gone off, while others thought someone caused the incident so they could play outside in the snow.
    “Well, you did it again… you’re the lead suspect,” said Jonas as he shoved not two, but three whole baked French fries into his mouth.
    “It doesn’t surprise me,” said Carla. “It seems these people have nothing better to do.”
    “And what makes you think that Mark didn’t do it?” asked Jonas, sporting a quizzical look.
    “I didn’t!” I said indignantly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
    “It isn’t necessarily a bad thing. You have to admit, being bad and all has its advantages with the ladies,” Jonas said with a grin.
    “If by ‘ladies’ you mean white trailer-trash with a probation officer,” Carla said as she perused inside her pink and purple backpack, apparently trying to find something. We laughed as Jonas gathered our used trays.
    “Aren’t you guys coming?” Jonas asked, perplexed and holding our trays.
    “Yes,” I said, snapping out of my daze.
    We walked to math class while secretly making fun of the popular kids as we passed them. I could’ve been popular if I wanted it. All I had to do was hangout with the “right” crowd. The only problem was that I couldn’t stand them.
    “See you later, Mark,” said Carla in her soft and sweet voice. I would see her again after school because of our different schedules.
    With all the excitement, I almost forgot about the strange and dreadful presence that followed me around. Little did I know that my brief, chaotic peace would soon end.
    I arrived on time to Mr. Campbell’s math class and took my usual seat in the darkest and quietest corner of the room. The fluorescent light in the back was burnt out, making it my favorite spot. Some days, I was even able to sneak a snooze or two, depending on how tired I was and how boring the lesson of the day was; today was definitely one of those days.
    The class had barely started when I found myself slowly drifting toward an infinite void, only to be brought back violently by the loud and stern voice of Mr. Campbell.
    “Wake up, Mark. You’re here to learn and not to sleep.”
    As he spoke, I felt death itself approaching; the dread was unmistakable, invisible, and evermenacing. I was fed up. I was tired of being followed around. I refused to sit idly by while that thing, whatever it was, made fun of me. Feeling a false sense of security, I got up and said loudly: “What do you want from me?”
    “What did you say?” Mr. Campbell asked as the whole class paused to look at me.
    “Hmmm… nothing,” I said in vain.
    “You just tripled your workload, young man. I suggest you learn some respect,” said Mr. Campbell.
    Mr. Campbell believed that equations made the most effective detentions, so he walked over and threw about ten sheets of paper on my desk.
    “I expect it on my desk before the end of class.”
    “There’s no way I can finish this today!” I said, still feeling the diabolical presence, the same dreadful feeling.
    “You’ll never finish it if you don’t start.”
    By the end of Mr. Campbell’s class, my brain hurt, not to mention my hands and fingers from squeezing the pencil too hard. It took me a while, but I’d finished it… fifteen minutes late.
    That’s when I realized it was almost 3:45 p.m. and the last bus had probably already left and I might as well start the walk to my house.
    ***
    As I walked home, the sky grumbled and the cold invaded my being. My backpack provided limited protection, while my shoulders paid a heavy price. My eyes felt tired and sore, but my lungs thrived on the crisp New England winter air.
    My week had been long and dreadful. I still couldn’t believe that I had missed