Haunting of Lily Frost Read Online Free

the dark with a picture of the house in my head, it all seems unreal. My parents have never expressed any great desire to live in the country. I didn’t even know they liked the country. They like being able to walk to a café and meet friends for breakfast, or go to the movies, and do all the other things they can, now that Max and I don’t have to be babysat. What are they going to do two hours out of Melbourne? Chase koalas down the street? Join the local fire brigade? Hold community meetings? I can’t imagine how that’s going to work. And I’m going to have to walk into a new school, see a whole bunch of kids who’ve grown up together, then try to smile and be friendly in the vague hope someone will be nice to me. I hate making friends. That’s why I’ve got Ruby. She’s my friend and she’s nice to people, so they think I am too. But without her around to look after me, or talk to me –
    Hello, lonely girl.

3
    the attic
    If you haven’t been to Gideon, you’re lucky. It’s this boring little town about two hours from the city. There are fifteen shops. I counted them when we drove in. Mum keeps going on and on about how pretty it is, but all I can see are trees. And trees are fine, but you can’t go shopping in them and you can’t eat them. Not unless you’re a possum. And I’m just a girl being dragged along after my parents, because Dad’s lost his job. Gideon’s one of those towns you go to to die. There’s a swamp they call a beach (the locals’ idea of a joke), a dead end they call a main street (again, hilarious) and a classroom they call a school (yep). Maybe it’s a good place for a daytrip, but not to move to. Not to sell our fantastic house in the city for, or pull us out of school and leave all our friends for. That’s deranged.
    So today we’re driving to Gideon just to see our new house. And then we have to go back to the city, pack up our old house, put it on the market, and move to this dump of a place in a couple of weeks.
    At least Mum and Dad let Ruby come this time – to shut me up, probably. And I’m really glad they did. I’ve got nothing to say to my parents, so she’s talking for both of us. In fact I’ve barely talked at all over the past week. After I realised nothing I said would stop them from making us move, I’ve avoided them altogether.
    They tried to get me to clean up my room for a real estate agent and a photographer who came to take photos, but I went to Ruby’s instead. When I got back, Mum had clearly made some sort of effort to pack things away, because my room was neater than I’d ever seen it. I hate the idea that someone was in there without me, taking shots of all my things, so they can advertise our house.
    Everyone at school knows we’re leaving. Must have been Max, because I certainly haven’t told anyone except Ruby. The few friends I’ve got want to have a party, but I just want to slink away in the night without having to say goodbye to everyone. Ruby made me a map, where she stitched a red line between our houses. She calls it the 196 map because there will be exactly 196 kilometres between us. I know it’s kind of her, and that she’s trying to make me feel better about moving, but I don’t want to feel better; I want to be pissed off.
    And now we’reseconds away from the house and I’m starting to get a headache. As Dad turns the corner into Simpson Street, Max rolls against me, bumping his sweaty arm against mine.
    â€˜Ew!’ I say, pushing him back onto his side, angry about how cheery he’s being. Not that I expect him to agree with me, but a bit of solidarity would be nice.
    Simpson Street is one of those weird long streets that only have about twelve houses. So the street goes on and on, but there’s just empty land where the houses should be. It’s a sure sign people came to their