Fear Hall: The Beginning by R.L. Stine, Franco Accornero Page A

okay?”
    â€œN-no,” I choked out.
    I felt the closet pulling me inside. Swallowing me. Swallowing me whole. Felt the blackness sweep over me. So cold …
    â€œNo!” I repeated.
    I pushed myself away from the closet. Stumbled out into the light.
    I staggered halfway across the room, unable to breathe. Unable to think.
    â€œEden?”
    She squinted up from her bed, still half asleep. “What’s happening, Hope?” she asked.
    â€œYou’re not in the closet,” I murmured.
    Her expression changed to confusion. She pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Excuse me?”
    I dropped down beside her on the bed. I felt so happy and so frightened at the same time.
    Happy that Eden was okay. Happy that she wasn’t tied up in the closet.
    Frightened about myself, about my mind.
    Am I going crazy? Am I totally losing it?
    I knew I hadn’t dreamed that I hit Eden over the head and tied her up. It was no dream. I’d been wide awake.
    So had I
imagined
it all?
    How could I imagine something so vividly? I wondered. How could something I imagined seem so
real?
    I shut my eyes tight and buried my head in my hands.
    I didn’t want to think about this. I wanted everything to disappear.
    I wanted to wake up and have everything nice again.
    â€œOh!” I jumped up, suddenly remembering Darryl. Darryl surrounded by three policemen.
    I had to get dressed. I had to get outside and help him.
    Darryl. Poor Darryl.
    â€œHope—what’s wrong?” Eden demanded. “What
is
it?”
    I didn’t answer her. My head spun. My legs felt rubbery and weak. But I ran to the window and peered down at the campus.
    And saw Darryl. By himself now.
    No cops. The officers had left.
    And Darryl stood alone. Staring up at me. Staring up at my window.
    With the most terrifying look of pure hatred on his face.

 
Jasmine

chapter 25
    I jogged across Pine Street and crossed without looking, ignoring the red light. A car honked, but I didn’t stop to see what the problem was.
    The neon sign in the front of the Campus Corner came into view in the middle of the next block. I ducked my head into the swirling, cold wind and began to run full speed.
    I was late for work. And I knew Marty would be in my face the moment I stepped through the glass door.
    â€œJasmine—where have you been?”
    â€œJasmine—you know you’re the only waitress on duty after four. How can you stand me up like this?”
    â€œJasmine—didn’t
anyone
teach you about responsibility?”
    I’ve heard it all before. I’ve heard him shout and curse and threaten to fire me.
    I try to get to work on time. And I try to be the best waitress I can be, even though it’s boring, lonely work.
    But sometimes the time goes by and I don’t realize it. Sometimes I get involved in something more important and don’t want to admit that I have no choice. That I have to keep this job if I want to stay at Ivy State.
    Anyway, I burst breathlessly into the restaurant. And started to pull back my long blond hair. Marty makes all of us wear hair nets, which I really hate.
He
doesn’t wear one—and he’s the cook!
    I tugged off my parka and tossed it over a coat hook. And started to the kitchen behind the lunch counter to get my apron.
    Mrs. Jacklin, my daily customer, was lowering herself into her usual table. I glanced at the coffeepot to make sure there was coffee. Mrs. Jacklin, I knew, would be lingering over her cup of coffee for at least an hour.
    My eyes swept the restaurant. A couple of guys from the college sat at a back booth with slices of pie and Cokes. No one else.
    Marty was sitting on a wooden stool near the sink, reading a magazine. He raised his eyes when I came in, and his expression turned sour.
    â€œJasmine, I have to talk to you,” he said quietly. His cheeks turned red. He rolled up the magazine between his hands and slapped his lap with