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I wasn’t even alive in 1984.
But he was in the school yearbook, the same exact age as he was right now. He slammed the yearbook shut in horror. It tumbled from his hands, hitting the carpeted floor with a thud.
Suddenly, the pages started flipping on their own, turning faster and faster. They landed back on Barrie’s class portrait from 1984. He was wearing strange clothes—acid-washed jeans and a baggy, fluorescent yellow sweatshirt. His hair was trimmed into a severe bowl cut.
His own face stared back at him from the pages, even though it was impossible.
Suddenly, a dark shadow fell over him.
It was accompanied by a deep, jeering laugh that made Barrie’s skin crawl.
Just as Barrie began to cautiously turn around, a sword slashed out of the shadows, shredding the 1984 class yearbook and scratching Barrie’s face from existence.
Barrie bolted from the library in a panic. He abandoned the yearbooks, not bothering to bring the evidence that he’d come to collect. He ran down the row, but Hook’s ghost chased after him.
Thump. Thump.
Hook’s dark shadow grew closer. The footsteps grew louder.
Barrie tried to turn on the speed. He had to get out of the library and get someplace where there were people. Someone who could help him. Then he heard something else—metal scraping against metal. Hook had unsheathed his sword.
“Scurvy brat, I shall have my revenge!” the pirate’s voice boomed through the stacks.
He slashed at Barrie’s head.
Barrie dodged the sword, darting around the corner to the next aisle. He ran faster, weaving through the stacks. He sprinted for the window. He could see the bright sunlight shining through it. He was almost there. Just one more turn. He bolted down the next row.
But Hook’s ghost stepped out right in front of him, blocking the escape route. The pirate captain was lit from the back so that only his dark silhouette was visible. Hook raised his sha
dowy sword. His voice reverberated through the library.
“Blasted kid, I’ll make ye walk the plank!”
Barrie staggered backward, then turned and ran back the way he’d come. He hooked a right, but this row dead-ended at a wall. He was trapped between the tall bookcases. He whipped around in a blind panic.
This time, there was no escape. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Thump. Thump.
Hook’s ghost advanced on him with his sword raised. For a split second, the sunlight caught on the pirate’s other arm—which ended in a bloody stump. Of course, Barrie had taken his hook. He felt a surge of guilt. No wonder Captain Hook’s ghost wanted revenge on him.
Thump. Thump.
Hook’s ghost drew closer, rising over him like a dark shadow.
Barrie felt his mouth go dry, as adrenaline surged through him. The air felt suddenly colder. He shuddered violently, backing away. Desperately, he scanned for a way out.
Thump. Thump.
Barrie clawed open his backpack, searching for the hook. Maybe if he gave it back, then the ghost would stop haunting him. His fingers seized on the rusty metal.
“Look, Mr. Pirate…Captain…sir…” Barrie stammered, holding up the hook. “I made a big mistake…I shouldn’t have taken it…you can have it back….”
Still, Hook’s ghost advanced on him. Barrie backed up even more, his back hitting the wall with a thump.
“Please,” Barrie begged. “Please…”
That’s when he heard another noise coming from above him.
