Read Glimpse for Free Online Page B

just before a really bad storm.
    â€œI told you not to cut through my yard, kid.” Mr. Utlet’s gaze flicked over my face and his expression shifted from angry to curious. No doubt he was wondering where all the bruises had come from. I wondered if he could see the fear in my eyes. Even worse, maybe he was like a dog or a bee, and he could smell fear. It wouldn’t have surprised me one bit. “Sorry, sir,” I said, dusting off my clothes, “it won’t happen again.”
    He grunted and gestured for me to go.
    I crossed the street in a flash, rushed through the front door of my house, and didn’t stop until I was lying on my bed.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with me?” I groaned into my pillow. I pressed my hands to my head and closed my eyes.
    The twisted image of Mrs. Farnsworthy screaming like a maniac—a dying maniac—played over and over in my mind until I couldn’t keep my eyes closed for another moment. I tried to forget about the whole thing by studying my biology textbook, but it was no use. The moment I managed to get the image of Mrs. Farnsworthy out of my head, I instantly remembered what a scene I’d made and felt my cheeks flush with renewed embarrassment. I flipped a bit further through the book until the words started swimming off the pages and frustration got the best of me. I growled and threw it across the room. It hit my night table and knocked my alarm clock to the floor.
    Get a hold of yourself! I took a breath, pushed myself to my feet, and paced in front of my bedroom window until I started getting dizzy. Then I plunked down at my computer and spent the next while surfing the Internet for an explanation for what might be going on with me besides PTSD. I wasn’t a psychologist, but the whole PTSD thing just didn’t make sense. I hadn’t been beaten up in the alley. I hadn’t been attacked at all. No, it hadn’t been fun to watch a man get beaten to pulp, but I didn’t feel anxious when I thought about it. I wasn’t worried the men were going to come and find me or anything. My hallucinations had to be the result of something else.
    Exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I moved to my bed. Just a quick nap , I decided. I had barely finished the thought before I passed out.
    At four-thirty, my mom knocked at the door and startled me awake. I hadn’t heard her come home. “Colin’s on the phone, honey. Do you feel well enough to talk?”
    I cracked the door open. “Yeah. Thanks, Mom.”
    She handed me the phone and smiled one of those worried-mom smiles before heading down the hallway.
    I took in a deep breath before speaking. “Hey, Colin.”
    â€œHey, man, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
    â€œI’m fine, just tired, I think.”
    â€œSo you’re just seeing screaming faces because you’re tired?” a girl’s voice suddenly asked.
    â€œLisa?”
    â€œOh yeah, sorry,” Colin said. “Lisa’s on the line too.”
    I sighed. “You guys don’t need to worry about me.”
    â€œYeah right! You’re either on drugs, schizophrenic, or, my personal favorite, possessed . I’m hoping you’re possessed. That would totally explain the outburst in Mrs. F’s class, plus I’ve always wanted to see an exorcism. You haven’t been puking up green slime or crawling around on the ceiling, have you?”
    I moved to the window. “You watch too many movies.”
    Colin chuckled.
    â€œI think you’re right… you’re just tired. Stressed and tired,” Lisa offered. “Are you feeling stressed out, Dean?”
    â€œI’m fine.” My parents already thought I was nuts. The last thing I wanted was my friends thinking the same thing. I tried to choose my words carefully. “There’s”—I swallowed—“nothing wrong with me. I just… I don’t know, maybe I’ve got a fever or something.