The Boy Who Ate Fear Street by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

Lissa yelled.
    I brought the shaker up to my mouth and began pouring the pepper down my throat.
    â€œSAM! Stop!” Kevin ordered.
    I wanted to stop.
    I tried to stop.
    But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried.
    Kevin reached across the table and snatched the shaker from my lips. Pepper spilled everywhere.
    â€œGive that back to me!” I yelled, trying to grab it from him.
    I had to have that pepper.
    Kevin held it out of my reach.
    I lowered my head and licked the spilled pepper off the table.
    â€œSAM!” Lissa shrieked. “STOP!”
    â€œI want to stop, But I can’t!” I yelled. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
    â€œWhy can’t you stop?” Lissa demanded.
    â€œBecause I’m a little excited.” Why did I say that? I didn’t mean to say that. Did I?
    The pepper burned my throat. I swigged some milk from my container.
    â€œI need your help! You’re the only ones who can help me.”
    â€œWe’ll help you,” Kevin said. “But you have to tell us what’s wrong.”
    â€œI know I’ve been acting kind of crazy, and it’s all because I’m under a—”
    â€œUnder a what?” Lissa asked impatiently.
    â€œWhat?” Kevin echoed.
    â€œI’m under a chow chow poodle German shepherd.”
    Huh?
    Why did I say that?
    I definitely didn’t want to say that!
    Kevin and Lissa laughed.
    â€œI’m under a terrier Lassie boxer Pekingese,” I declared.
    Oh, no! What’s going on? I know what I want to say! Why are all the wrong words coming out?
    The lunch period warning bell rang.
    â€œWe have to go, Sam.” Kevin and Lissa stood up.
    Tell them! Tell them about the dog food and the fleas!
    My heart began to race.
    I opened my mouth.
    Would the right words come out?
    I concentrated on what I wanted to say—and shouted, “Rin-Tin-Tin!”
    Kevin and Lissa gathered up their books.
    â€œPit bull!” I cried out.
    Why couldn’t I say what I meant?
    I had to tell them how Aunt Sylvie put a curse on me with those little black flakes.
    That’s it! I gasped.
    That’s why she came to school!
    She knows I’ve figured out she’s the one doing this to me.
    And she doesn’t want me to tell Kevin and Lissa!
    So she came to school and sang that weird chant over my head—to strengthen the curse.
    To make sure I’d never be able to tell anyone about it—ever!

15

    â€œD oberman beagle Newfoundland,” I screamed, trying to tell them about Aunt Sylvie. “Labrador schnauzer Lhasa apso!”
    â€œSam,” Lissa said. “Why are you doing this?”
    â€œI’m trying to tell you why!” I shouted. But all that came out was “Schnauzer mutt Greyhound!”
    â€œStop it!” Lissa shook her head impatiently.
    â€œCollie retriever—”
    â€œSam, stop it. I mean it!” Lissa reached over and socked me in the arm hard.
    â€œOwww!” I yelled. “That really hurt!”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Lissa apologized. “But I had to make you stop.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to hit me so hard,” I said, rubbing my arm. “You could have broken something.”
    Hey! I’m talking!
    â€œOkay, quit joking around now,” Kevin said, “and tell us what you wanted to say.”
    â€œI wasn’t joking around,” I protested. “It’s part of the curse.”
    â€œWhat curse?” Kevin asked.
    â€œThe curse your Aunt Sylvie put on me!” I cried.
    â€œSam, you really are crazy!” Lissa shrieked.
    â€œNo, I’m not!”
    I told Kevin and Lissa about eating the sponges. I reminded Kevin about the paste and the weird shocks. I told them how I wanted to eat Fred’s dog food.
    I told them about talking so fast yesterday, I couldn’t even understand myself.
    I told them that I ate fleas.
    â€œAnd it all started