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32 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 16, 2011

Some of the shades had colors in them and looked more like people. Those were the ones I’d been ducking since I learned to walk.
Although I remembered one shady fady lady who had hovered near my bed when I was really little and told me all kinds of strange stories I couldn’t understand at first, and later when I could, I realized they were kind of scary, although the kids in the stories sometimes survived. She wouldn’t come in my room if Mom or Dad were there reading me to sleep. Sometimes I preferred my parents’ stories, and sometimes I wanted Vo-Ma’s. She left, though, when I was about four, and I never knew why. Mom didn’t understand what I was crying about.
come to my blog!Mrs. Jernigan, my fifth-grade teacher, was the first ghost who hooked on to me.
My best friend Mike and I were sitting in the back corner of the classroom like always, near the window and a little beyond the range of Mrs. Jernigan’s chalk-throwing accuracy. We were sitting behind tall girls, so we could duck, too. The old radiator ticked beside me without letting out much heat, and the fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered. Mrs. Jernigan, a brown mountain behind her desk up front, stood and read to us from an account of the Battle of Concord; her voice droned. Spring was waiting just outside the window, but the day was rainy, so I wasn’t totally longing to be outside the way I usually did.
”Lesson one,” she said.