Ghost House Revenge by Clare McNally Page B

But she was still smarting from the way Gina had carelessly mentioned Mother’s
     Day. She hated that holiday, when people sent cards and flowers to their mothers and
     stores were filled with sentimental posters. Why did they all have to remind her she
     didn’t have a mother?
    She put her forehead down on her desk and cried softly. It just wasn’t fair! Some
     people had mothers and treated them horribly. But she wouldn’t, if her mother was
     alive. She’d be good to her, better than her father had ever been.
    “Oh, mommy,” she whispered. “Why did Gina have to make me think of you dead?”
    She sat up, shuddering. Drying her eyes, she looked over at her clock and noticed
     it was well past midnight. She’d have to fall asleep now, or she’d never be able to
     get up for the class trip. Trying to wear herself out, she got up and paced the floor.
     The rug felt soft and warm beneath her feet. She did not go near the grating.
    “Mommy,” she whispered. “Mommy, mommy . . .”
    Something creaked behind her.
    “Aaallliiicceeeennnn!”
    The voice sounded hollow and far away. Her heart beating loudly, Alicen hurried to
     the door to lock it. Who was out there? Was it just Kyle, teasing her? Or was it someone
     else?
    “The door is locked,” she whispered aloud. “I’m safe in here. I’m safe.”
    But suddenly she didn’t care who was in the hallway. Her muscles became like jelly,
     too weak to support her body. Her eyes drooped shut as she sank to the floor. Without
     warning, she had fallen asleep. But this wasn’t a real sleep that took her over.
    In a minute she was on her feet again. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. Though
     the hallway was pitch black, she didn’t have to grope her way to the stairs. It was
     as if some unseen force had her by the hand and was leading the way downstairs.
    Alicen heard laughter in the kitchen and pushed through its door. Obeying a silent
     command, she sank to the floor and waited. She didn’t feel the cold of the linoleum.
    There was a woman standing above her. Alicen couldn’t see the features of her face.
     But she saw the blond hair and smiled, unafraid. Her mother had had blond hair.
    “You’ve come to me,” she whispered.
    A hand touched her forehead, and Alicen tilted her head back. She held up her arms
     to the apparition, her fingers spread wide like a little child’s.
    “Please hold me tight, mommy,” she said.
    It was the seven-year-old Alicen asking for affection, the Alicen of all her dreams,
     where her mother came to love her. But her mother did not embrace her this time. Instead,
     she pulled her to her feet. Alicen looked at the watery features, wishing she could
     see them more clearly. She’d waited so long.
    “Gina VanBuren made you sad today,” the vision said.
    “Yes, she made me think of you, mommy.”
    “That was bad of her,” was the reply. “She must be made to pay for it, right?”
    “Yes, mommy.”
    “Then do as I say,” the vision ordered. “Tomorrow there is a bus trip.”
    “Yes.”
    “Gina must sit directly behind the driver of the bus. Then she will die.”
    “Die,” Alicen breathed.
    “And when we are rid of her,” the vision said, “I will give you this.”
    Smoke billowed around the apparition’s hand as she raised it to Alicen’s face. In
     the white cloud sat the huge, brilliant diamond that had once been on Sarah Kaufman’s
     hand. Alicen reached for it, mesmerized. She saw it not as Sarah’s ring, but as the
     ring her mother had always worn.
    “She must sit up front,” the vision said, snatching her hand away.
    “She will,” Alicen promised. “Oh, mommy, I’ll be so happy to wear your beautiful ring!”
    The next morning, Alicen woke up in her bed. She went down to the kitchen for breakfast,
     completely unaware that she had been sitting on its floor just a few hours earlier.
    “Look at that bus, Alicen!” Gina cried as they stood together in the school yard.
     “Isn’t it