Graveyard Slot by Michelle Schusterman (classic children's novels .TXT) 📕

“Of course!”

I caught Dad’s eye and pointed to Brenda, so he’d see I had a chaperone. Then we quietly slipped away through the trees.

“I’m glad you asked me,” Brenda whispered, smiling. “I have to go too, but I didn’t want to interrupt the filming.” We emerged from the bushes back at the pool, and she pointed to the far end. “I’ll be right over there when you’re done, okay?”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

After she walked away, I moved closer to the waterfall. The cold mist mingled with the sweat on my face. My heart had finally slowed to a normal rate, but my stomach still twinged with anxiety. For a second, I wondered if Oscar was right; maybe this was what Sam had felt. Maybe I was sensing the emotions of the residual haunting. But I’d been nervous around the cameras back in the graveyard, too. My “stage fright,” or whatever it was, was getting worse.

I could see the opening to the cave behind the waterfall now. Instinctively, my fingers grazed my pocket, where my camera was tucked away. I felt guilty for letting Jess down, sneaking off like this right after she’d encouraged me to participate more. The least I could do was contribute some cool photos. I might not be good on camera, but I was good behind one.

Climbing up on a wide ledge about a foot off the ground, I edged around the rock and stepped inside the cave. It was shallow enough that I could see the back, but too dark to make out how high up it went. It was fairly eerie, too. Had the campers explored this cave before they’d gotten lost?

Flipping on my Elapse, I took a few more steps to the center of the cave and started taking pictures. It was too dark in there to bother with framing, and Brenda was probably finished by now, so I had to be quick.

Flash. Flash. Flash. I turned in a full circle, then took a few shots of the ceiling. The sudden brightness left spots dancing in my vision.

Blinking, I squinted at my display screen and scrolled through the pictures. The flash gave the rocky interior an orange hue, exposing every bump and crack. But there was a pattern to it. It took a few seconds for my brain to register what I was seeing. Three words, scratched all over the walls, even at the top of the cave where no one could possibly reach:

I WANT OUT

CHAPTER FIVE ONE CAMPER ENTERS THE CAVE, BUT HOW MANY WILL COME OUT?

P2P WIKI

Entry: “Thoughtography”

[Last edited by AntiSimon]

Thoughtography is a process in which a person projects their thoughts (images, words) onto photos or videos. Sometimes referred to as psychic photography or videography.

NUMBLY, I groped for the small flashlight clipped to the waistband of my shorts. When I finally grasped it, I shined it around on the walls. No words, just rock. I stared back down at the Elapse screen, a chill creeping up my spine. How was this possible?

I stumbled out of the cave and hopped off the ledge, fighting the urge to run. I started heading to the far side of the pool, but a rustling noise stopped me in my tracks. Freezing, I stared hard at the bushes, which were perfectly still.

“Brenda?” I whispered. No response.

Once again, fear and panic hit me like a gust of strong wind.

It took a massive effort to keep my feet planted when all I wanted to do was sprint through the trees and get as far away from this place as possible. Logically, I knew this must be the effect of the residual haunting, and there was nothing to be afraid of. But I sensed something, like a presence. If I weren’t so terrified, I might have laughed at myself for thinking like Sam.

The bush twitched, and my heart skipped a beat. Had I imagined that? Pulse thrumming in my ears, I flipped the Elapse to video mode and started to record. If I could get footage of something, anything paranormal, maybe it would make up for how awkward I’d been earlier when Jess tried to film me. My hands shook slightly as I kept the camera trained across the pond, my eyes flickering back and forth between the bush and the screen.

A moment later, a transparent wisp of a figure slid out from between the trees.

I took an involuntary step forward, and then other, until the water lapped at my feet. For a moment, my panic subsided, replaced with wonder. Was this one of the campers?

The figure stood so still, I briefly thought I’d imagined it. Then it shifted slightly, tilting its head, and something about its shape and the way it moved made me suddenly sure of two things.

This ghost was a girl. And she was looking right at me.

When she lifted her hand and waved, I gasped and dropped my camera.

Splash!

“No, no, no!” I hissed, kneeling down and swiping it out of the water. But it was too late. Clutching my soaking-wet Elapse, I stared across the pool. The girl had vanished.

“Kat?”

I barely stopped myself from screaming as I whirled around to see Brenda waving to me from the far end of the pool.

“Coming!” I managed to choke out. I cast one last glance across the water, but the ghost was gone.

“Give it here.”

Mi Jin snatched my poor Elapse from my hands and knelt on the ground. I watched as she pulled a small Tupperware container from her backpack and popped the lid off.

“Is that rice?” Oscar asked, leaning closer.

Nodding, Mi Jin placed my camera inside. “Uncooked rice,” she explained, covering the camera completely before snapping the lid back on. “It draws the moisture out. No guarantees, but I’ve saved a few phones from water damage this way.”

“So it might still work?” I asked hopefully.

“Possibly,” Mi Jin replied. “We’ll find out in the morning—it usually takes several hours for the