7 Wonders Mystery
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
The sound of the bell announcing school’s out rang in my head, bringing me back to reality. I was at the bus stop waiting for my friend, Diana, and her brother, Oliver. They’d been late every day this week—they were so busy with homework that they slept through their alarm clock each morning.
“Hey!” said a voice. “Stop staring.”
I looked up from the ground to see my mom standing beside a car. She wore a brown leather jacket over a white turtleneck shirt, baggy jeans, and black boots. Her long blonde hair fell straight down her back like a waterfall.
My dad must have come along too because he leaned on the roof of the car, smoking his pipe as usual. My mom had taken me shopping last night after dinner to buy me a pair of new sneakers since mine were starting to fall apart.
I thought they would be pretty, pink Converse shoes with sparkly bows, but she picked some ugly ones instead! Pink and purple with fake fur around the toes. Oh well, I guess it wasn’t like anyone could tell them apart anyway. Maybe she wanted to get rid of them before I ruined them.
She gave me an encouraging smile. “Don’t forget your backpack,” she said.
I nodded and got ready to run toward my house when Diana came running up behind us.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. “I’m going to walk home with Sam today.”
“Oh, right,” my mom said. “Okay, sweetie. Have fun talking about boys and clothes with your best friend.”
Diana smiled. “See you tomorrow, Mom.”
“Have fun on your date tonight,” my mom called back to Oliver.
Oliver waved and headed off toward our street. My mom gave him a hug and a kiss then drove away. The sky was dark blue and cloudy, and there were wisps of snow still falling from the trees. Winter was coming fast.
Diana and I walked side by side, chatting and laughing. We stopped at my house first to pick up my backpack. Then we went down the street and into Diana’s neighborhood.
We cut across the lawns of houses built close together. Most people in town lived on these two streets; we had more space than other kids because my grandmother grew up here and bought some land that now belonged to our family.
Our parents didn’t mind, though, since the houses were small and surrounded by tall trees. It was quiet in our neighborhood and no one bothered us or made any trouble.
Diana told me all about her date last night: how the ice cream truck played music while he waited for her, how he held open doors for her, and even how he asked her if she liked him. She was so excited.
Now I felt kind of stupid because I hadn’t kissed my boyfriend yet, although I did like him a lot. I just needed to figure out a good moment to do it. Maybe when we were alone in our bedroom, watching TV?
“Let’s go to the park,” I said.
Diana agreed, and we started walking again. There was a big playground behind the middle school where we usually hung out after school. All of the swings and slides and monkey bars were covered with pine needles, and the grass was a little high, but we never worried about anyone else being there because it was far enough away from the road that no one ever came past our houses.
A cold wind blew around us as we passed the school parking lot, sending goosebumps down my arms. I pulled my hood over my head as we turned left onto the small trail leading to the playground.
There was an old shed with a rusty chain lock keeping people out. We used to sit on top of it and talk, but not anymore. It looked like someone had broken the door open and spray-painted graffiti on the concrete walls inside.
I glanced at the metal pole jutting above the roof of the shack. I remembered climbing up it once with Diana and pretending we were superheroes trying to catch bad guys.
The playground was empty except for the swing set. The slide was gone, and the monkey bars had fallen apart. But the swings were still there, swinging slowly back and forth in the cold breeze.
I let go of Diana’s hand and climbed up the ladder to the platform. I sat on the bench and swung my legs back and forth. Diana stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at me.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just sitting here, waiting for something to happen,” I said.
“Why don’t you climb up to the next level?” she suggested.
“No thanks.” I couldn’t help feeling nervous. If I moved to the second floor, maybe I’d feel better. Or maybe it would make things worse. I thought of Chloe’s face, so pale and shiny. Maybe that would send me into another panic attack.
Instead, I let go of the chains and jumped off. I landed lightly on the ground and ran to the swing set. I grabbed a rope and tied it tightly around my waist. With a smile, I hopped up on one of the swings and pushed myself back until I was flying high.
I closed my eyes and imagined I was flying through the air, soaring over rooftops and racing toward distant stars. There was nothing in my way—nothing but air and freedom.
I felt the swing slowing down, and soon I was gently landing on the wooden platform again. I took off my shoes and socks and threw them away. Then I found a stick and began to whack the ground, making patterns in the soft dirt.
Suddenly, the swing set shook and groaned as something huge crashed through the wall. My heart dropped into my stomach as I watched a giant bear pounce onto the platform and smash the swing set with its paws.
It was too late to run. The bear was right beside me. Its fur was matted and thick, and its sharp teeth glinted in the sun.
My hands went numb. What should I do?
Do something! I yelled silently to myself.
With the bear’s mouth mere inches from mine, I reached up and stuck my fingers between its jaws. They locked together.
The bear’s body stiffened. It shook wildly, and for a moment I thought it might rip me apart. But then it released its grip and fell over sideways.
I scrambled away and stumbled onto the grass.
Someone shouted behind me. “Is that you, Tess?”
I turned and saw my dad running toward me. He was carrying a shotgun with a barrel that curved straight out. His blue flannel shirt was stained red with blood.
He handed me the gun, and I slung it over my shoulder and aimed.
The bear lay on the ground with both paws curled up under his belly. Blood poured from the puncture wounds in his neck. A few feet away, Diana stood frozen, her hands over her mouth.
“Dad!” she cried. She rushed to him and hugged him tightly.
His hair was wet with sweat. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, Dad.”
“You shot the bear, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
And now I remembered why I’d been standing alone by the playground.
Chloe had told me about the bear. This was all part of her plan to get me to come outside.
I followed my father as he carried the dead bear away. As we walked, I spotted the other bear lying near the fence in the backyard. It looked exactly the same as the first one, though I noticed that the wound on its neck looked much bigger than the one on the playground bear.
“Did you kill those bears?” I asked.
“They’re dangerous animals,” my dad answered. “We need to shoot them before they hurt anyone else.”
“But what if they were going to eat us?”
“Well, I don’t think this is the type of bear that eats people.” He glanced at the blood on his shirt. “I’m more worried about how much blood it’s lost.”
He held the shotgun up higher and pointed it at the wounded bear. I stepped closer to watch, wondering if it would move again.
The bear’s head twitched, and I saw the whites of its eyes. It rolled over slowly and crawled a few steps forward.
“Shoot it!” I cried.
My father hesitated, clearly unsure whether or not to pull the trigger. I could see the fear in his eyes.
“Dad, we have to do it!” I shouted. “Otherwise someone will be hurt!”
He nodded.
The bear let out a long, low moan and inched forward another inch.
Then my dad fired the gun.
A deafening blast echoed across the yard. The bear fell backward, and there was no movement again. For a moment, everyone froze.
“Uh… oh, wow…” Diana said quietly.
My father wiped some sweat off his forehead and lowered the gun.
“Wow,” I said.
***
That night, I dreamed about the two bears. One was in a cage, and the other came and pulled him to pieces. No matter which way I turned, they were always behind me.
As soon as I woke up, I checked the clock. It was just after four o’clock, and I knew Mom would be getting ready to go to work.
She wasn’t there yet, so I hurried downstairs and opened the refrigerator door. I lifted out a carton of orange juice and drank it down in three gulps.
When I finished, I leaned against the counter and stared at the empty carton. I wanted to drink more, but I couldn’t figure out where the rest of it had gone. Had I really drunk that much?
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. As soon as I saw my mom, I jumped up and threw open the freezer. There was nothing in the icebox, either. I felt around until I found a bag of frozen peas wrapped in plastic. I took it out and tossed it in the trash can.
“Mom, what are you doing at home?” I asked.
“Your dad called me. Said he’s taking the day off. And these things keep happening.” She tapped her hand on the kitchen table. “What happened?”
I shrugged.
“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Mom asked.
I gave her a half-smile. “It’s nothing. I just thought I’d help you clean up a little bit before school starts back next week.”
She smiled. “Thank you, honey. You’re a good girl.”
“Thanks.”
Just then, the phone rang. My mother picked it up and listened for a moment.
“Okay, thanks.” She hung up and sighed.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“Some kind of insurance guy.” She ruffled my hair. “Anyway, I’ll be home late tonight, so you’ve got to take care of yourself.”
I watched her put on her shoes and start toward the front door.
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to your grandmother at the senior center. I want to ask her about the old stories she used to tell me when I was younger.”
In the past few days, I’d learned that my great-grandmother had lived through World War II. Her story was of an injured soldier who wandered into the forest and died alone. Each year, in September, his spirit returned to the forest—and to my house.
“Do you think it’s real?” I asked.
“Of course it’s real. Why wouldn’t it be?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t believe it.”
“Honey, even if we don’t believe it, it still happens. Your great-grandfather never returned from the war, did he?”
“No.”
“And neither will this man.”
She left the house without saying goodbye.
I sat down on the couch and leaned my head back. I wanted to throw something. A glass. Something that would break apart and shatter like the rest of this mess.
While I waited for my dad to get home, I looked out the window and watched the sky turn gray with clouds.
At last, he arrived. He walked in with a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “There was an accident on the highway, and I had to wait out in the car.”
“Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “We’re fine. But we’ve had a lot of accidents lately. People aren’t paying attention anymore.”
I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice. I sipped it while Dad talked about work. When he finally finished, I realized how tired I was. So many thoughts were spinning around inside my head, and I couldn’t stop them.
“Did you find anything in your research?” I asked. “Anything about the soldiers?”
Dad shook his head. “Not much. I did learn that one of the men was named Willard. He died near here, during the war. That’s all I could figure out.”
“Will he come back again?”
“I hope not.”
My father started to say more, but then he stopped and looked at me.
“You haven’t been sleeping very well, have you?”
I gave him a shrug.
“Well, you look terrible.”
“I feel terrible.”
“Maybe you should try to get some sleep.”
“Why is it always me?” I whispered.
“Because you’re special.”
The End