Boarding School for Supernatural Girls
Lynette Ferreira Stephen Simpson
Amber never asked to leave her castle home, but when she's sent away to a strange boarding school, she uncovers a terrifying truth—her family belongs to an ancient clan, and her soul has the power to reshape her very form.
Alison never believed in ghosts… until she accepted a dare to enter Room Thirteen on the anniversary of Lily’s death. Now haunted by Lily’s spirit and a riddle that refuses to rest, she must solve the mystery.
Includes:
The Shape of My Soul
The Invisible Girl in Room Thirteen
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Manufacturer contact information
- Name: Fiction for the Soul Books
- eMail address: contact@support.fictionforthesoul.com
- Postal address (EU GDPR representative): PO Box 5696 Santa Monica CA 90405
Age restrictions: For ages 13+
Other compliance information: Meets the EU REACH requirements
Book Details
Imprint : Fiction for the Soul Books
eBook ISBN : 9798215113523
Paperback ISBN : 9798215755426
First Published Date : 6 February 2023
Language : English
Pages : 294
Words : 56,803
Format : ePub & PDF (you own the files)
Read on : Kindle, Apple, Android devices, Google Play Books, Nook, Kobo eReaders, Computers.
Delivery Time and Method : Downloads will be emailed immediately upon purchase.
Keywords : Horror Books for 13 years and older, Young Adult Ghost Stories Books, Young Adult Monster Fiction, Young Adult Horror Books, Young Adult Scary Books, Young Adult Spine-Chilling Horror, Teen Horror Books
Read an excerpt
The Invisible Girl in Room Thirteen
As I grew older, I learned to never be a scared girl. I never worried about things which went bump in the night but standing in front of this door, I could feel an awareness I had not known before making a connection to things yet unknown.
Before my mum dropped me off here at boarding school and drove away again without a backwards glance, she tried to convince me why it would be good for me to come here. I pretended not to see she did not want to admit me being out of the way would be good for her and my stepfather.
She met my father here, but they did not really get to know each other until they met at a Christmas party at her parents’ house approximately nine months before I was born.
Before my dad died and my mum married my stepfather, she used to tell me I was invincible, but if you replaced just two of the letters in that word it would be what I had become.
I was twelve when my mum remarried and that was when I became invisible. Not invisible in a haunting the living from the grave kind of way, more like the unseen living kind.
Maybe she only wanted me to follow in her footsteps, to be educated in the proper English way, to rub shoulders with snobs and lower royalties. Maybe she thought I would find the love of my life like she did until he died. Maybe, always so many maybes.
This was only one of the reasons I was standing here with a Ouija board under my arm.
I shivered when I heard the wind howling around the corners of the old boarding house and my eyes darted nervously toward the door with the painted over numbers: 13
Rachel reached to take my hand, the bangles on her scarred wrist made a jangling noise. She had a wild mop of short, blonde, curly hair and a round face to match. Even though the shape of her face was round, the rest of her was really skinny so she looked a little top-heavy. “Don’t be afraid, Alison,” she said. “Even if Lily is still in there, it’s not as if she can hurt you, you know.”
Rachel and Sinéad took me under their wing when I arrived a week ago, but they were both a year older and I did not know if they were trustworthy as they were essentially part of the group who instigated this initiation, a dare I had no choice but to accept.
It was rumoured, Lily, the girl who used to reside in this room, fifteen years ago killed herself on the thirteenth of February, the day before Valentine’s Day. Witnesses saw her walking into the mist shrouded lake behind the boarding house. They said, she killed herself because of a boy.
Rachel insisted, rubbing her wrist and making her bangles knock against each other like dull sounding Christmas bells, “If her ghost is in there, you can ask why she killed herself. Was it really just about a boy?”
Sinéad had the largest eyes I had ever seen. It was not ugly or humongous in a grotesque kind of way, it was breathtakingly beautiful. They were so green it looked eerie. Her long brown hair hung dead straight down past her shoulders and the tips brushed across her forearms. She said with an excited tone in her voice, “Last night, I read this magazine and in it, it says science has confirmed at the moment of death the body releases a sort of radiation. They called it an electromagnetic field. So… When somebody dies within a closed space, this force will imprint itself on the furniture and walls.”
“I thought you said she drowned in the lake?” I said.