Nightmare by Robin Parrish Page A

few mild scratches, so as long as
I wore warm clothing and kept the wincing to a minimum, no
one would be the wiser.
    What really hurt was knowing that I'd lost everything I
owned-everything I had brought with me to school, anyway.
Many of my clothes were salvageable, and thankfully I'd backed
up my laptop hard drive on a USB flash drive that didn't get
destroyed. Otherwise, there was very little that was irreplaceable, but the thought of losing so many personal belongings
still stung.
    The ER doctor-an alarmingly short man with perfectly
groomed hair and fingernails-decided to keep me until morning for observation, because I had a big, ugly egg on the top of
my head.
    Derek arrived just after an unappetizing breakfast, and once
he was sure I was okay, I told him everything I could remember.
Knowing full well what he would think it was.
    "It was a demonic attack!" he whispered to me conspiratorially as a nurse left the room after taking my blood pressure for
the millionth time. "I told you, you shouldn't be nosing around
in the paranormal all the time! You've opened the door to something and your life is in danger!"
    I normally welcomed a good intellectual debate, but I didn't
feel up to it this morning, so I changed the subject back to our
attempts to find Jordin. Last night's attack only strengthened
my resolve to find her.

    "No luck, I take it?" I asked, referring to the tattoo parlors
in Martha's Vineyard.
    He shook his head.
    "Me neither. Most of the places I talked to were kind enough
to look back through their records for a small tattoo at the top
of the neck, but ... their records ..." My voice drifted off as a
new thought came to mind.
    "What?" he asked.
    "Her journal," I said, thunderstruck. "When we were traveling,
Jordin recorded all of her experiences in a journal, and if she was
planning to keep investigating without me, she probably kept
writing in that journal all summer. Possibly right up until her
disappearance. Did you ever see it?"
    "Never," he replied, his features pained, probably at the
thought of another part ofJordin's life he knew nothing about.
I could only imagine what terrible fears he might be fighting
against right now, like wondering if he ever really knew Jordin
at all. I hoped he wouldn't give in to those worries.
    The doctor showed up a few minutes later to go over some
of the results of the tests and give me the good news: I was being
released. No permanent damage had been done, and as soon as I
signed some papers and changed my clothes, I was good to go.
    When he was gone, I picked up our conversation where we left
off. "We need to find that journal," I said with conviction. "Maybe
one of those girls she went to Martha's Vineyard with-"
    I was interrupted when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the
number, so I asked Derek for privacy before answering.
    "Hello?"
    "Um ... is this Maia Peters?" asked a timid female voice. I
didn't recognize it.

    "Yes," I replied. "Who is this?"
    "It's Carrie-Carrie Morris. We talked yesterday? About Jordin. You gave me your number. "
    "Oh," I said in shock. I hadn't actually planned on her calling
me. But she was and she didn't sound well. I said so to her.
    I thought I heard Carrie's voice trembling as she spoke. "I,
uh ... I'm scared. I think something's really wrong."
    "Okay. . ." I said, thinking fast. "Do you want to tell me
what's going on?"
    She let out a shuddering breath. "Could you just come to
my dorm? Please?"
    Somehow it sounded like a setup, and I didn't feel like playing any games. Still, something about her voice ...
    "When would you like me to-?"
    "Right now, if you can," she said, sounding close to tears.
This was no joke.
    I sighed. Apparently restarting my own life, heading to class,
and finding a room would have to wait.
    "What dorm?"

    I knocked hard on Carrie's door, ignoring the stares I drew
from other girls in the hallway on their way to class. Apparently
girls in this dorm didn't look like