A provocative thriller involving hypnosis, mystery, love, and friendship!
Someone has been moving the stuffed pink elephant in Hannah's room. She thinks. And ants crawl over her hands, across the steering wheel, all the time. Don't they? They're what made her crash the car on the way home from the fair, and she wouldn't have freaked out, wouldn't have caused her friend's death, for no reason. But she doesn't know if a person is messing with her, if the paranormal is messing with her--or if she's just going psychotic like her dad before her.
When her friends bail, Hannah is left floundering. Not even her boyfriend Manny believes her, and new girl Chelsea is practically replacing her at school. Only artsy outsider and self-proclaimed occult expert, Plug, agrees to help Hannah find out the truth about hypnosis and demons, and even he can't help Hannah reclaim her mind from whatever's taking over. She'll have to do that herself if she wants to save her friends, her mom and herself.
Crimson lights flashed beneath the
darkening Idaho sky, and swarms of people screamed as they plummeted on roller
coaster rails. My friends and I passed unshaven men who blew whistles and
offered the world, if you’d only play their game—toss their rings, shoot their
balls, throw their darts—for a small price, of course. The tempting aroma of
fried foods made my empty stomach tighten. Funnel cakes. Corn dogs. Fried
“Hannah, there it is!” Lily motioned toward a massive white tent. A
throng of people near the opening pointed and laughed at the show inside. Lily
snatched my wrist and yanked me forward, but Manny tugged me back.
“Food first.” He patted his stomach.
“No. Hypnotist first,” Lily said. “He’s the whole reason we came
tonight.” She pulled, and her tan shoulders hunched. But Manny held on, and
together, the three of us blocked the crowd trying to move down the fairway. A
tall blonde lady grunted and hedged around us. Then Lily’s long-time love,
Jordan, laughed at our spectacle, which was the last thing I wanted. I wrenched
free from my friends and took a step away.
“Let’s work this out,” I said.
“Oh, Hannah . . .” Lily adjusted her golden tank top. “You’re crazy if
you think Manny and I will ever agree on anything.”
“Then we’ll flip a coin,” I said.
Jordan plucked a quarter from his pocket. “Who wants to call it?”
Lily clapped. “Heads!”
Jordan tossed the quarter high into the evening sky. We craned our
necks, and the evening breeze blew my hair across my face. I smoothed it back
into place as the coin crested and began to fall. Jordan reached for it, but a
burly man—too busy laughing to watch where he was walking—bumped into Jordan
before he caught the coin.
“Dude! Watch out!” Manny yelled at the stranger. I wrapped my fingers
around Manny’s arm, and he relaxed. The offending guy held his hands up in
apology and wandered away.
Manny raked his fingers through his thick chestnut hair. “Let’s get the
hypnotist over with so we can enjoy the rest of the night.”
Lily beamed, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “We need to hurry and get our
seats. The next show starts in ten minutes.” She grabbed Jordan’s hand, and
they darted toward the white tent, but the crowd from the previous performance
flooded out and blocked their path.
“Thanks,” I said to Manny. “I just want everyone to get along and have
Manny laced his fingers through mine, and my heart fluttered. Would
tonight be the night we finally kissed? We’d been friends for years, but we
just officially started dating last week. He was the best thing in my life, and
I wanted to be with him forever. He squeezed my hand, and we meandered over to
the tent to wait with Jordan and Lily.
Jordan fiddled with the gold hoop dangling from Lily’s ear, and she
fussed over the spikes in his sun-bleached hair. They were the poster children
for cute couples. Lily had even bought Jordan a plaid shirt with golden lines
through it to coordinate with her tank top, and they both wore faded denim
shorts and Converse sneakers.
The crowd of people cleared, and we ducked inside the mammoth structure.
Spotlights illuminated the entire space and rock music blasted from corner
speakers. Stands of bleachers spanned two-thirds of the perimeter, and a stage
filled the remainder. Men, like a colony of worker ants, moved around sweeping
and rearranging chairs for the next show.
Lily claimed a spot near the middle front of the bleachers, and I
perched next to her. A shiver ran up my spine when the cold metal touched the
backs of my thighs. I wedged my fingers beneath my legs, and my silver
bracelets clanked against the steel.
“Why do you want to sit so close?” I raised my voice over the blaring
“To get picked for the show.” Lily bugged out her eyes, as if it
should’ve been obvious.
My throat tightened at the idea of making a fool of myself in front of
everyone. I wished we could move further back, but all around us, the stands
were filling fast.
Over the noise, a familiar hee-haw laugh split the arena: Chelsea. She
and her date, Mark, bounded toward us, her long tan legs accentuated by her
short shorts. Her single blonde braid swished back and forth as she moved. She
was a starting center for volleyball and towered five inches over Mark who was
a second-string tight end for the football team. He had to move twice as fast
to keep up with her, but he had pursued her ever since she moved here last
“You didn’t save us seats?” Chelsea asked.
“It flooded with people too fast,” Lily said. We hopped up and exchanged
hugs with her.
Jordan stepped in front of Chelsea and fingered the collar of my white
blouse. “You’d be hilarious hypnotized,” he said.
“No, I wouldn’t.” I swatted his hand away and straightened my collar.
“Besides, it’s only entertainment. A gimmick.”
“Jordan’s right,” Chelsea said. “You would be funny on stage, but you’re
way too uptight to be submissive to anyone.” My jaw dropped, and Chelsea
“I’m not uptight,” I said, but my words faded into the deafening music.
I just never wanted to be disorderly like my dad. He embarrassed Mom so many
times in public. She would flush beet red as she worked to quiet his outbursts.
One evening back in New Jersey, when I was eleven, Dad refused to get into the
car. Mom started the engine and threatened to leave him in that crowded mall
parking lot. I loved him too much to abandon him there. I pleaded with him, and
when I reached for his arm, he backhanded me. My head flung to the side, and
the pain seared through my cheek. Less than twenty feet away, a trio of girls
from the popular clique gawked at my family’s debacle. Their ringleader cocked
an eyebrow. Then the girls snickered and scurried away. I fought back my tears
and turned toward Dad. I opened his door and waited—keeping my hands to myself.
Several minutes passed before he relented and sank into the passenger seat. He
never touched me again. He died three months later.
The music in the arena suddenly changed from blaring rock to a peppier
pop song at half the volume.
Chelsea edged around me and took my seat. “Well if you’re too chicken to
be in the show, Lily and I can volunteer.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“No!” Lily said. “She’s just teasing.”
Chelsea shrugged and surrendered my seat. “Fine, just make sure you
entertain us.” She grabbed Mark’s hand, and they ran off to claim spots at the
top of the bleachers.
“Don’t let them badger you into doing it, if it’s something you don’t
want to do,” Manny said. His towering six-foot frame shaded me from the arena’s
“Trust me,” I said. “I’ll choose for myself.”
His brown eyes widened, and he caressed my
cheek with his smooth fingertips.
“Oh gag.” Jordan pretended to barf. “It’s a good thing we haven’t eaten
yet; otherwise I’d be blowing chunks all over you two.”
Manny whacked Jordan’s chest.
“Dude!” Jordan lifted his hands.
“Stop.” Lily pulled him toward her, and he sat to her right. I sat to
her left, and when Manny took the spot next to me, he wrapped his arm around my
He whispered in my ear, “You’re amazing.” His breath made my skin
A guy on the stage thumped the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, and the song changed to an
anthem of drums and guitars, building the excitement. “Tonight, I have the
honor of introducing the mystical Master Gira.” The guy swept his arm to the
side of the stage, the drums beat at a maddening level, and the crowd applauded
as a man stepped onto the stage. He wore powder blue sneakers, worn-out jeans,
and a white button-up collared shirt beneath a black blazer. His face, too tan.
His hair, too white. He clapped his huge hands together, and his bleached teeth
glowed under the glare of the spotlights.
Lily whacked my knee. “Volunteer with me.” She twisted several strands
of her long brown locks around her finger. “Take a risk with me. Life is meant
to be lived. Please?”
I glanced up at the stage and back at Lily. “I’ll do it, but only
because we’re friends.”
About the Author
Margo Kelly is a native of the Northwest and currently resides in Idaho. A veteran public speaker, Margo is now actively pursuing her love of writing. Her critically acclaimed debut, Who R U Really?, was published by Merit Press (an imprint of F+W Media) in 2014. Her second novel, Unlocked, will be published by Merit Press in October 2016. Margo welcomes opportunities to speak to youth groups, library groups, and book clubs.
Margo Kelly loves to be scared … when she’s reading a good book, watching a good movie, or suffering from the hiccups. She loves writing thrillers for young adults and hopes her stories give you the goose bumps or the itchies or the desire to rethink everyday things. Margo is represented by the not-so-scary, but totally awesome, Brianne Johnson of Writers House.