Read #3 Mirrored Online

Authors: Annie Graves

#3 Mirrored

First published in Dublin, Ireland by Little Island
Original edition © Little Island 2011

American edition © 2015 Darby Creek,
a division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

All US rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

Darby Creek
A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
241 First Avenue North
Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

For reading levels and more information, look up this title at
www.lernerbooks.com
.

Main body text set in ITC Stone Serif Std. 11.5/15.
Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Graves, Annie.

Mirrored / by Annie Graves ; illustrated by Glenn McElhinney.

pages cm. — (The Nightmare Club)

Originally published: Dublin, Ireland : Little Island, 2011.

ISBN: 978–1–4677–4349–5 (lib. bdg : alk. paper)

ISBN: 978–1–4677–7636–3 (eBook)

[1. Mirrors—Fiction. 2. Horror stories.] I. McElhinney, Glenn, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.G77512Mi 2015
[Fic]—dc23

2014015438

Manufactured in the United States of America
1 – SB – 12/31/14
eISBN: 978-1-4677-7636-3 (pdf)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-7872-5 (ePub)
eISBN: 978-1-4677-7873-2 (mobi)

For Mum and Dad ... wherever you are!

A
nnie Graves is twelve years old, and she has no intention of ever growing up. She is, conveniently, an orphan, and lives at an undisclosed address in the Glasnevin area of Dublin, Ireland, with her pet toad, Much Misunderstood, and a small black kitten, Hugh Shalby Nameless. You needn't think she goes to school—pah!—or has anything as dull as brothers and sisters or hobbies, but let's just say she keeps a large cauldron on the stove.

This is not her first book. She has written eight so far, none of which is her first.

Publisher's note: We did try to take a picture of Annie, but her face just kept fading away. We have sent our camera for investigation but suspect the worst.

Let's face it, this is
my
book and
I
wrote it and I couldn't have done it without myself. But I suppose I'd better thank Alice Stevens, who helped a teeny bit and seems to frighten people without trying that hard.

Thanks to Kevin Stevens, too, for dropping Alice off at the Nightmare Club. Who said parents are good for nothing? (Oh, yeah, that was me—hah!)

I
t's me, Annie. Hey! I'm the nice one. The rest of them are all right, I suppose, but I'm the one people
really
like.

Some say it's my great big witchy house they like. Some say it's my deep, dark, spidery basement with the window that keeps opening and closing no matter how tightly I latch it.

Others say it's really Hugh Shalby Nameless, my very own black kitten, that people like.

I know it can't be Much Misunderstood, my pet toad, because everyone hates him, except me.

Anyway, whatever the reason, they all come here every year, every Halloween, for a sleepover, and we have the Nightmare Club.

We all huddle in our sleeping bags (some of them bring their
teddies,
but I pretend not to notice), and we tell each other ghosty stories deep into the night and we scare each other half to DEATH!

The Nightmare Club is all about having nightmares and telling about your nightmares and giving everyone else nightmares.

I maybe forgot to mention the “true rule.” The stories are supposed to be true. Because that's much scarier than fake stuff. That's why stories about witches and ghosts aren't really allowed.

I made a new rule this year. We all have to whisper. I tell them it's so my mum and dad can't hear us. But you know that's not true because I ... sort of ...
mislaid
my mum and dad ...

But, the thing is, stories are scarier when they are told in whispers, aren't they?
I don't know why that is ...

So you have to imagine this story being told in a whisper.

And Karen's got
such
a creepy whisper.

T
here was this girl in my class called Abbey. We used to be friends.

I liked her 'cause she invented the best games. My favorite was when we made potions and cast spells on the boys in our class. I was just pretending, but Abbey would get really into it, like it was real.

The other kids in our class thought she was weird and didn't really talk to her. But I thought she was more fun than anyone else in school.

But after last summer, Abbey was different. She never played games anymore. When I asked her if she wanted to play virtual rollercoaster, she looked at me like she had a bad taste in her mouth.

 

Suddenly, Abbey was popular. All the kids wanted to be her friend. But I didn't. I thought she was boring now. And she was kind of mean. She was the one who made fun of the “weird” kids now.

Then a rumor started going around school about why Abbey changed. I don't know if it's true, but I have to tell somebody ...

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