The Face by R.L. Stine, Bill Schmidt Read Free Book Online Page B

hard shove.
    But they were too fast for me.
    They both took off with happy squeals. The sleds dropped fast.
    Laura hit a hard bump. Her sled flew into the air. But she managed to hold on.
    Adriana reached the bottom and just kept going. Her sled took her halfway across the field below.
    I laughed. What a great ride!
    My turn, I told myself.
    I tried to remember the last time I had stood up here on Miller Hill, the last time I had sledded down.
    I was probably ten or eleven, I guessed.
    Well, why should the ten-year-olds have all the fun?
    I gazed down to the bottom of the hill—and saw Adriana and Laura standing together, sleds at their sides. Adriana had pulled off her ski cap and was brushing snow from her black hair. They were both staring up at me. Waiting for me to join them.
    â€œHere I come!” I shouted, cupping my gloved hands around my mouth. I don’t think they could hear me.
    A gust of wind gave me a hard shove from behind.
    I lowered my sled to the snow, resting it on the edge. Then I lowered myself to my knees.
    I gripped the sides of the disk and dropped on top of it.
    Another wind gust sent me sliding down. Before I was ready to go.
    I nearly fell off as the disk slid down. Picked up speed. I bounced over a sharp bump. Held on.
    Screaming.
    Oh, no.
    The white snow whirring past. A blizzard of white.
    So white. White and cold.
    A cold wall of white.
    No. No.
    I’m buried in it. Buried in the white.
    Falling deeper, deeper …
    I realized I was screaming now.
    Not a scream of fun. Not a scream of delight.
    I screamed in horror.
    Screamed out pure terror.
    Screamed until I felt my lungs about to burst.
    And still I screamed.
    Screamed so hard. Screamed so loud.
    And the walls of white closed in.
    As I screamed. Screamed. Screamed out my horror.
    I knew I couldn’t stop.
    I knew I’d never stop.

chapter 11
    I
don’t remember exactly how I got home.
    Of course, Adriana and Laura must have helped me.
    I can still see their troubled faces as they ran to pull me off my sled at the bottom of the hill. They had to pry my hands off the edge, then pull me to my feet.
    I can see their wide eyes, their red cheeks. They were frantically talking to me. Shouting at me.
    But I couldn’t hear them. I was screaming too loud.
    Screaming my throat raw.
    Screaming. Screaming.
    I saw the puzzled faces of the kids all around. Isaw a woman pull two little girls away. The girls were covering their ears with mittened hands, trying to shut out the shrill screams.
    I saw them all. Saw their alarm. Saw their fear.
    But I couldn’t stop.
    I couldn’t control myself. I felt as if a creature inside me was struggling to burst out. Screaming and screaming—and forcing its way out of me.
    What triggered my horror?
    The snow? The sled? The feeling of sliding down, down, down so fast?
    The feeling of being out of control?
    Or was it the whirring walls of sparkling white snow?
    What drove me over the edge like that?
    I think I screamed all the way home.
    I don’t really remember. I don’t remember returning home. And I don’t remember finally closing my mouth, shutting off the horrible shrieks.
    My throat felt raw. It burned as if on fire.
    I couldn’t speak. I could only whisper.
    Martha, you’re a total mess, I told myself.
    Where was I?
    Lying in my bed. The quilt pulled up to my chin.
    Mom and Dad downstairs, making me a cup of tea. A bowl of hot soup. Dad on the phone, trying to reach Dr. Sayles.
    I’m still shaking. My whole body shuddering. My throat throbbing and aching from my screams.
    Lying in bed, staring up at the white ceiling.
    The bright white ceiling.
    And I had another flashback. Another picture slid into my mind, as rapidly as a sled racing downhill.
    Another memory.
    Of white. The cabins covered with snow. Powdery drifts up to the windows. Silvery icicles, stabbing down from the rain gutter like dagger blades.
    I saw Justine. Laura. And then Adriana.
    A