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I am so sick! I don’t know how this happened. One second I am perfectly fine, eating flan and strawberries, the next thing I know I am hunched over the toilet saying hello to everything I have eaten over the last couple of days. My nose is stuffy, and my throat is scratchy, and my eyes are watery and itchy. It hurts to breathe!

So, Saturday night, Amanda and I snuggled up and watched Paranormal Activity. Since we are both chickens, we were laying there covering our ears and jumping behind each other at every scene that looked even a little bit scary. I still have nail marks on my arms where she grabbed me. Well, in between the screaming and the laughing a tiny beetle decided to fly on her head. She must have jumped like 5 feet in the air, slapped me, then fell off of the bed taking the plate of crackers and ham with her. Another reason to laugh until our stomachs hurt. After the scary movie, we decided that it was bed time. She lay on her bed and I lay on mine. My mind was running a marathon, as always. I leaned over: “Amanda! Are you still awake?” I whispered, tapping her on the head. “Huh? (mumble, mumble.)” She turned on her side, turning her back to me.

“Amanda! Wake up!” I had the covers pulled up to my chin, and my feet safely tucked in at the other end. “What!” She mumbled. “Amanda, I have to tell you something important!” I didn’t really have to tell her anything, I was just scared, and it was dark in there, and the dresses hanging in the open closet were making funny shapes, and I was scared of opening my eyes again. “What, Katryna.” She mumbled, still half asleep. I thought about something important enough that would get her to wake up enough to talk to me. “I’m scared!” I blurted.

“Go to sleep, Katryna.”

“I can’t”

“Okay, then close your eyes and count.”

“I can’t!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s dark and I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? I feel bad for your future husband, he is going to have to put up with you after a scary movie.”

“Ghosts.”

“Don’t say that word! I’ll get scared!” Aha! Now I knew how to keep her awake.

“Amanda, did I ever tell you the story about this house? About the ghost.”

“Stop it!”

“It’s a good one. This girl who waited too long for her husband back in WWII, killed herself in this room when she got the letter saying that he died at war.”

Great, I just succeeded in scaring myself, again.

“Really? Was she pretty?” I let my imagination go.

“Really pretty. She was a singer. Sometimes, you can hear her singing about him. Their favorite song, the one that they had danced at their wedding. People have seen her roaming around the house, dressed in white. The rope still around her neck.” I was talking complete nonsense, and yet I was scaring the crap out of myself. “This is why so many people have moved out of this house so quickly.” She was sitting up now, her hair a tousled mess on her head. “Yeah, and …” I couldn’t stop talking. I love telling stories, and this one carried me away. By the end of my ridiculous tale, Amanda was sitting up in bed staring at me through the dark, her mouth open. “Amanda, one more question…”

“What?”

“Can I sleep with you? I scared myself even more.”

” I can’t sleep.”

“What now?”

“How about we watch another movie?”

“What do you want to watch?”

“The Hills Have Eyes.”

“Okay.”

We didn’t fall asleep until the sun started coming up. By the end of the movie, we were at our wits end. We ended up sitting under the covers, asking each other if the other was still awake until we drifted off to sleep around 6am.

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