The Show Must Go On! Read Online Free PDF Page A

there.’
    â€œThe group slowly pushed open the creaky old front door and stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind them loudly, startling everyone in the group. Then a man dressed in full colonial costume stepped into the entryway.
    â€œâ€˜Good day to you,’ the man said. ‘Welcome to my home. My name is Jeremiah Hobson.’
    â€œâ€˜I thought you said that this house wasn’t on the tour,’ one friend whispered to another.
    â€˜It’s not supposed to be. I guess they added it or something.’
    â€œAs Jeremiah Hobson led the group on a tour of the house, he described the day-to-day activities of his daily life in colonial times. The friends were all impressed by his detailed descriptions.
    â€œâ€˜This guy’s the best actor yet,’ one friend whispered.
    â€œâ€˜Yeah, but you’d think they would clean the house up before they took people on a tour,’ said another. ‘This place is a filthy wreck.’
    â€œJust as the tour ended, the kids heard the front door burst open.
    â€œâ€˜Hey! Who’s in here?’ someone shouted.
    â€œThe kids ran toward the voice and found themselves face-to-face with a police officer. ‘What are you kids doing in here?’ he asked them as he stepped inside.
    â€œâ€˜We were taking the tour,’ one of the students explained.
    â€œâ€˜The tour?’ the officer replied. ‘What tour? Thishouse has been closed up and condemned for years.’
    â€œâ€˜But what about Mr. Hobson, the tour guide?’
    â€œâ€˜Hobson? Jeremiah Hobson?’ the officer asked.
    â€œâ€˜Yeah, that’s him.’
    â€œâ€˜Jeremiah Hobson lived in this house two hundred years ago! You say you saw him?’
    â€œâ€˜Yeah, he’s right over—’
    â€œThe kids all turned to the spot where a moment before, Jeremiah Hobson had been standing. He had vanished. Turning back to the police officer, their eyes opened wide in shock as they watched the front door slam closed . . . with no one having touched it.
    â€œâ€˜Good-bye, Jeremiah,’ the officer said, which was when the kids realized that they had been given a tour of the house by its original occupant—or at least by his ghost.”
    â€œCool!” Melissa cried. “I like it. But I wish the lights would come back on so we could keep rehearsing.”
    â€œI have one,” Tiffany said with a sly grin.
    â€œMy story is about the very play we’re performing,” Tiffany began. “I did a little research and discovered that it was first performed thirty years ago. In fact, it was put on in this school, in this auditorium, on this stage where we are now sitting.
    â€œA creepy drama teacher named Wormhouse wrote the play. She insisted that the school put it on, but she met a lot of resistance from parents and teachers who said it was too strange and too scary and that it didn’t have a happy ending. They all wanted Wormhouse to do a safe, nice musical, something everyone knew and was comfortable with. But she would have no part of that. She insisted that her play be performed, and in the end she got her way.
    â€œRight from the start, though, the rehearsals were plagued with strange incidents. Props would break, scenery would collapse for no reason right in the middle of a scene, and lights would go on and off by themselves—kind of like what happened to us tonight.
    â€œFinally opening night came. But as soon as the girl playing Carrie stepped out onto the stage to begin the show, something fell from above. It struck her and killed her instantly.”
    All the girls onstage gasped.
    Tiffany had them in the palm of her hand, and she knew it.
    â€œBack then there were rumors that the play itself is cursed . . . and that whoever plays the lead is destined to die!”
    As Tiffany said the word “die,” the lights in the auditorium blazed back to life.
    Bree looked