Goosebumps 20 - The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine [Stine, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-03-26T02:58:04+00:00

Climbing into bed, I pulled the quilt up to my chin. I lay on my back, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, trying to figure out what kind of picture they formed. There were three jagged cracks. I decided they looked like bolts of lightning.

If I squinted, I could make them look like an old man with a beard.

I yawned. I felt really sleepy, but I couldn't get to sleep.

It was only my second night here at the farm. It always takes me awhile to adjust to being in a new place and sleeping in a different bed.

I closed my eyes. Through the open window, I could hear the soft mooing of cows from the barn. And I could hear the whisper of the wind as it brushed through the tall cornstalks.

My nose was totally stuffed up. Bet I snore tonight, I thought.

That is, if I ever get to sleep!

I tried counting sheep. It didn't seem to be working, so I tried counting cows. Big, bulky, bouncing, sloooooow-moooooving cows.

I counted to a hundred twelve before I decided that wasn't working, either.

I turned onto my side. Then, after a few minutes, I tried my other side.

I found myself thinking about my best friend, Shawna. I wondered if Shawna was having a good time at camp.

I thought about some of my other friends. Most of them were just hanging around this summer, not doing much of anything.

When I glanced at the clock, I was surprised to see it was nearly twelve.

I've got to get to sleep, I told myself. I'll be wrecked tomorrow if I don't get some sleep.

I settled onto my back, pulling the soft quilt up to my chin again. I closed my eyes and tried to picture nothing. Just empty, black space.

Endless, empty space.

The next thing I knew, I was hearing scratching sounds.

I ignored them at first. I thought the curtains were flapping against the open window.

Got to get to sleep, I urged myself. Got to get to sleep.

The scratching grew louder. Closer.

I heard a scraping sound.

From outside the window?

I opened my eyes. Shadows danced on the ceiling. I realized I was holding my breath.

Listening hard.

Another scrape. More scratching. Dry scratching.

I heard a low groan.

"Huh?" A startled gasp escaped my lips.

I pulled myself up against the headboard. I tugged the quilt up to my chin, gripping it tightly with both hands.

I heard more dry scraping. Like sandpaper, I thought.

Suddenly the room grew darker.

I saw something pull itself up to the window. A dark figure. Blocking the moonlight.

"Who — who's there?" I tried to call. But my voice came out a choked whisper.

I could see a shadowy head, black against the purple sky.

It rose up in the window. Dark shoulders. Followed by a darker chest.

Black against black.

A silent shadow, slipping into my room.

"H-help!" Another stammered whisper.

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