Young Scrooge by R. L. Stine

you?” I cried.
    The robot hummed to life. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Future,” it announced in a tinny voice.
    â€œAnother ghost?” I said. “Can’t I just go home? I think I’ve learned my lesson. Seriously.”
    â€œCome with me,” the robot said in the tinny, metallic voice. “You have more to learn, Scroogeman. You have only begun to learn the truth about yourself.”
    â€œBut my house is only a block away,” I protested. “Please—let me go home. I learned a real lesson at that party. I know what I have to do now. I have to become a better friend.”
    â€œI am not convinced,” it droned. Its metal hand closed over my hand. It felt cold and hard. “You need to see your future, Scroogeman. Then perhaps you will mean what you say.”
    We began to move, soaring higher into the solid blue.
    â€œWait. Stop! Where are you taking me?” I cried.
    â€œTo your future, as I said,” it shouted, and we soared higher. “To the place you deserve. Where you will spend your days … forever.”
    That didn’t sound good.
    â€œCan we talk about this?” I asked.

 
    24
    â€œAnother school?” I cried. “You’re dropping me at another school?”
    I stared at the tall black building. It looked like Dracula’s castle, with two tall round towers on the sides. We were on a dirt path that led to the school. The robot ghost and I stood beside a wide flower bed. The flowers were all black .
    â€œI’m not going to stay here,” I said. I crossed my arms in front of me, trying to look tough. “That first ghost took me to a weird school where the kids were all mean to me. I’ve been there, done that.”
    The ghost locked its glassy eyes on me. “The other two ghosts tried to help you,” it said, pronouncing each word like a computer. “You ruined Christmas for your friends and for your family. The ghosts tried to help you learn how to treat others and what Christmas should mean to you.”
    â€œI’ve learned a lot!” I cried. “I can change. Really. I’ve learned what I have to do.”
    â€œScroogeman, you learned nothing,” the ghost said. “Zero. Zip. Nada. Goose eggs. Nil. Nix. Naught. Zilch. Diddly squat.”
    I squinted at it. “Diddly squat?”
    It nodded. “We robots say that a lot in the future.”
    I gazed at the tall towers of the huge school building. Were those vultures circling the towers?
    â€œSo you’re dropping me at another school to help me learn— what exactly?” I said.
    â€œI’m not here to help you, Scroogeman. I give up. Your school principal gave up on you, too. I’m not going to help you. I’m going to leave you here because this is where you belong. This is your future.”
    â€œBut you’re not giving me a chance,” I said, my voice trembling. “Lucy’s party changed me. I saw what my friends think of me and … and…”
    I gazed up at the circling vultures, and a shiver rolled down my back. The black flowers in the big flower bed shivered, too, blown by a sudden cold wind.
    The ghost ignored my pleas. The robot led me up the dirt path toward the school entrance. The double doors in the front were black, the same shade as the whole building. “What is the name of this school?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s called Dead Middle School,” it replied.
    I saw black skulls in a row on a window ledge. I could hear the flap of the vultures’ wings overhead. The wind blew at my back, as if pushing me into this school.
    â€œDead Middle School?” I said. “What kind of name is that?”
    â€œYou’ll find this school interesting, Scroogeman. They have a very good afterlife program.”
    I didn’t understand. I just knew I didn’t belong here. I turned to the robot ghost. “Take me home. Please,” I begged.