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16<br />
I pulled the covers up to my chin. I felt so cold. My entire body was trembling.<br />
I was breathing hard, gripping the top of the blanket with both hands, waiting, listening.<br />
Would the whispers follow me into my room? Were they real, or only in my head?<br />
Who was calling to me, whispering my name in that sad, desperate voice?<br />
Suddenly I heard panting louder than mine. I felt hot breath on my face. Sour-smelling and moist.<br />
It reached for me. It grabbed my face.<br />
I opened my eyes in terror.<br />
“Whitey!” I cried.<br />
The dumb dog was standing on his hind paws, leaning over the blanket, furiously licking my<br />
face.<br />
“Whitey, good dog!” I cried, laughing. His scratchy tongue tickled. I was never so glad to see<br />
him.<br />
I hugged him and pulled him up into the bed. He whimpered excitedly. His tail was wagging like<br />
crazy.<br />
“Whitey, what’s got you so worked up?” I asked, hugging him. “Do you hear voices, too?”<br />
He uttered a low bark, as if answering the question. Then he hopped off the bed and shook<br />
himself. He turned three times in a tight circle, making a place for himself on the carpet, and lay<br />
down, yawning loudly.<br />
“You’re definitely weird tonight,” I said. He curled himself into a tight ball and chewed softly on<br />
his tail.<br />
Accompanied by the dog’s gentle snores, I eventually drifted into a restless sleep.<br />
When I awoke, the morning sky outside my bedroom window was still gray. The window was<br />
open just a crack, and the curtains were swaying in a strong breeze.<br />
I sat up quickly, instantly alert. I have to stop going up to the attic, I thought.<br />
I have to forget about the stupid mirror.<br />
I stood up and stretched. I’ve got to stop. And I’ve got to get everyone else to stop.<br />
I thought of the whispered cry from the night before. The dry, sad voice, whispering my name.<br />
“Max!”<br />
The voice from outside my room startled me out of my chilling thoughts.<br />
“Max—time to wake up! We’re going to Springfield, remember?” It was my mom out in the<br />
hallway. “Hurry. Breakfast is on the table.”<br />
“I’m already up!” I shouted. “I’ll be down in a minute.”<br />
I heard her footsteps going down the stairs. Then I heard Whitey downstairs barking at the door<br />
to be let out.<br />
I stretched again.<br />
“Whoa!” I cried out as my closet door swung open.<br />
A red Gap T-shirt rose up off the top shelf and began to float across the room.
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