Forlot - Books 7-9

Chapter Twelve

The beds in the boys' cabin and the girls' cabin were bunk beds. Most of the girls desperately wanted the top beds, and I was happy for them. Like my writer, I prefer the bottom because...well...I like being close to the floor and not be way above it. I might roll around while sleeping and fall!

The only girls who did not care about sleeping in the beds were Valerie and Sheila. They hate, according to them, "beds that have been slept on by ugly people."

"But the beds are clean," Debra informed to them right before we hit the hay.

"You cannot fool us," Sheila insisted. "We can see dust on those beds from a mile away. Gross! And there could be huge spiders crawling all over! Disgusting!"

"You girls are such drama queens."

"Of course we are!" Valerie yelled. "Sheila and I are in the drama club after all."

"That is not what I meant."

In the end, Sheila and Valerie slept on the floor and were in their sleeping bags. They fell asleep as soon as the rest of us did.

But like I said in the last chapter, except for me.

I had my hands resting on my stomach and was staring up at the bottom of the top bed. I closed my eyes. And then opened them. Then closed them. Then opened them. I did that for about another minute before giving up on falling to sleep.

I never had insomnia, for sleeping was my specialty. I surprisingly never had trouble sleeping at my new house in Forlot. Whether or not if I had a busy day, as soon as I was in bed and in a comfortable position, my brain would shut down and let me rest until it was ready to work again.

For those of you who have or have had insomnia, my writer understands.

I rolled onto my side and wondered why I had not fallen asleep yet. I was not tired, which was weird because of what happened to Josh, Sheila, and Valerie. I should have been tired!

Days before camp, I had done some research. You know. What to expect from camp and what to bring to any camp. While doing that, I came across an article that talked of insomnia. It was titled "The Connection Between A Single Camp and Insomnia."

I ended up reading the entire article and discovered that insomnia was not only common in people who camp, but it was perfectly normal when going camping. It is because you are in another part of the world that you are unfamiliar with, and unfamiliarity usually follows insomnia.

Maybe that was why I was not finding myself falling to sleep. My parents were not here, and I was practically sharing a house with my own classmates. Keep in mind that I also had been very excited for this trip.

How can you sleep when you are too excited?

From just outside of our cabin, the wind was picking up. It was making all sorts of noises. From whistling sounds to the rustling of the leaves that were hanging from the branches of the trees.

Then I heard something cool. The wind was saying my name.

"Ari..."

Of course, it was not actually pronouncing my own name. It just sounded that way.

"Ari...Ari..."

"...huh?" I rolled onto my back and listened to the wind.

"Ari. I need you. Ari..."

I sat up. There were sweat stains on my nightdress.

"I need you, Ari. Please...come."

That was totally not the wind!

Other than whoever - or whatever - was calling for me, I could hear snores coming from some of the girls. The two bullies were snoring the loudest.

"Come to me. Ari. Come. I need you..."

I wrapped my arms around my legs and hugged myself.

Who was calling to me? Someone whom I knew? Like Melinda?

No. Not Melinda. She and Belinda were with us in the cabin.

Maybe it was one of the boy counselors, David or Garcia. Or...what about Collin? Did he need me for something?

I got out of bed and tiptoed to the front door, hoping that I would not wake up anyone. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet, but luckily, it was not loud enough to awaken anybody from their slumber. I reached the door and grasped the doorknob, wrapping my fingers around it. I was going to pull open the door, when...

"I see you, Ari. I see you. Please come and see me. Pretty please?"

If I were in a cartoon, my hair would have stood.

I let go of the doorknob. There was a keyhole right below the doorknob, so I kneeled down and peered through the hole. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

Not until I heard the crunching of leaves. And it sounded like that it was by our cabin. I waited quietly, still peering through the keyhole, and searched for anything that was not supposed to be by our campsite.

Nothing. Still nothing.

Then the night sky and grassy ground were covered by black.

I managed to keep myself from screaming and remained calm. I pulled my face away from the hole and quietly stepped back from the door, when...

Knock, knock.

Two soft knocks. I heard them just barely.

Now I knew for sure that somebody was out there.

Wanting me. Needing me.

"Ari, relax," I said to myself. "It is someone whom you know well. It has to be Collin."

That is when I realized...

...that it could not be Collin.

"You are awake, Ari. I am so happy. I sure hate being alone at night."

That voice did not belong to Collin. It belonged to...

...Kyle.

"Kyle?" I called to him.

"It is me. Could you please open the door?"

"Uh, sure." I opened the door and saw him. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to give you a gift," he said. "The gift of death."