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"Well, I don't know if we're together anymore or not." Jenny could feel her lips tremble slightly, but she tried to sound off-hand. Pushed down her designer sunglasses with one finger to stare over them.
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Michael spilled his Cracker Jack in triumph. "Daddy's going to kill me when he sees it." She told the story of the dog that had followed them. "You think you've got problems? I found scratches all over the hood of the Spider this morning," Audrey said. "And if I keep missing my kung fu classes I'm not going to live through the next competition," Dee finished. "-we covered about half the streets yesterday," Dee was saying, "but we didn't find anything-" "I found blisters," Michael put in. As long as he wasn't there, things wouldn't be right. The knot in her stomach had eased slightly-and now she could worry about other things. She sat back on the grassy knoll and let out a deep breath. She'd been jumping at shadows because she was so frightened. No, if a model's good enough, there would be no way to tell it wasn't real," Michael said. You could touch it-" "Touching's just another sense. "But the coffin still wouldn't be real," Dee argued. Especially if I'd been asleep or if I was already thinking about coffins. But if I was really stressed, I might see wood and rectangular, and my brain might make a model of a coffin. It took wood and rectangular and matched that with coffee table, and I recognized it. That's what it thought of the images my eyes were showing it. Like-last night I was doing homework in my living room, and my brain made a model of a coffee table. "It's as real as any of the other models your brain makes all day. It seems real because it is real-to your brain."ĭee was frowning, clearly not liking the idea of not relying on her brain. Your brain hears something that isn't there. But when you're really stressed, it can take that input-like somebody whispering nonsense on the phone-and make the wrong model out of it. It takes the input it gets from your senses and makes the most reasonable model it can from it.
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See, your brain is like a modeling system. "But that's just why you imagined it." Michael was waving a box of Cracker Jack, warming to his subject. Not vanished, but famished-it fit in with those eyes."
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I heard the sounds the first time when the phone rang at school, and in the end they came clear. In the bright May sunshine, the terror of last night seemed less real. You didn't hear vanished until the psychic said vanished, right?" You put your own interpretation on the sounds. I'm saying the phone rang, and maybe somebody even whispered something at you-or maybe it was just static-but you imagined what it was saying. "No, no, I'm not saying the phone calls aren't real. Other times-I was walking around, Michael. "Okay, the last one might have been a dream-I woke up my parents screaming, and they said they didn't hear the phone ring. It was all she could do to keep her voice steady. "The calls weren't hallucinations," she said. But he was in his place, long legs folded under him, ashy-blond head bent over his lunch. After what she'd said to him at lunch yesterday, she'd have thought he'd have withdrawn from them all. Jenny was surprised that Zach had shown up. They were all sitting on the grassy knoll-all but Tom, of course. We're stressed to the max, and we're seeing-and hearing-things that aren't there." "You know what it really is?" Jenny thought he was going to make a joke, but for once he was serious. "She looked like a case of peroxide on the brain to me."
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