Spellbook by Sami Therme (2010)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: My daughter, Samantha, wrote this at age 11. I was pretty darn proud!

Microsoft Word - Cover



“Lakeview?” I cried. “We’re moving to Lakeview?”

“Samantha, calm down.”

“Mom, how can you tell me to calm down when you say I’m moving away from my life?”

“Let me finish.” Mom looked at me, her bright blue eyes sinking into mine. “Brian needs to move because of his new business, Greenstone.”

Brian is my stepdad. My mom and dad divorced when I was about four, and came up with a schedule for me to go back and forth every day. Monday’s Dad, Tuesday’s Mom, and so on. Then my dad got remarried and my mom got remarried. Now I have a sister that is seven and a brother that is two. So I’m the oldest. And my life was going so well until about a minute ago when mom announced we were moving.

“Brian already owns Blackstone,” I said. “Why does he need a green one?”

“People loved the restaurant so much that they came up with the idea to put multiple ones around Iowa, and they want Brian to own this one.”

“But what happens when another one opens up?” I asked, still confused at the situation. “Will we have to move again?”

“No, this is the only one that Brian is going to own. He took the job because he is going to be fully in charge of the restaurant, and he has never actually managed a restaurant alone. He wants to experience this new adventure, and I know he’s making the right decision. If I thought he wasn’t, trust me … we would not be moving. Does that make more sense now?”

I thought about it for a second and it seemed kind of logical, but then another subject popped into my mind.

“What about my dad?” I asked, pointing out one of the things she probably hadn’t even thought about yet.

She handed me her phone and pointed to a message my dad had sent her. It read: I don’t know what to think, but being away from my daughter except for when she comes to visit … I would miss her too much.

“See!” I yelled. “He wouldn’t be ok with this in a million years!”

“But then I wrote him back and told him he would get to see you more than he would think, because we will only be about two hours away. And that he would have you in the summertime, every other Christmas, and every other Thanksgiving as well. Samantha, you have to at least consider that this could be a good thing. We’ll talk about it more later. Dinner is ready.”

She walked downstairs and left me sitting there speechless. I couldn’t believe the words I just heard.

I gazed out the window, looking at my neighborhood. This was my hometown! Where I grew up! I could never leave!

I went downstairs, scooted onto the kitchen chair and forced a smile onto my face. I played with my food for a while, but I didn’t exactly have an appetite. We didn’t say anything until Brian broke the silence.

“So how is school going?” he asked. “It’s almost the end of the school year. Are you excited about seventh grade?”

I didn’t answer.

“Listen, Samantha, I’m sorry this is happening, but it will be better when we get there. I promise,” he said hopefully.

Mom butted in. “The house is very big, which also means a big backyard. And do you know what a big backyard means? A pool!”

I had always wanted a pool here at our house, but our backyard was too small. I didn’t know what to say, but I wasn’t going to show excitement. So I just shrugged.

“Can I go upstairs now?” I asked, hoping I could sneak in a little alone time for myself.

“Sure,” Brian said.

I went upstairs and flopped down on my bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.



The next morning I woke up to the crying of my brother. I moaned and crawled out of bed and made my way over to my closet. I picked out an outfit and went to eat. I was running a little late so I missed the bus. I ran to school and broke the news to my friends. It was a depressing day.

When I got home it wasn’t any better, because all we did was pack. All week. But I made sure I spent lots of time with my friends, my dad, and other family.

Then after one week of misery, I said my goodbyes. And away we went.

We arrived at my house a couple hours later. It was huge and looked really neat! But I couldn’t show any sign that I liked it, even a little, because I wanted to go back to Iowa City.

I looked around a little and then went upstairs to the room with my bed in it. I went in and laid down.

And without another thought, or a change of clothes, I fell asleep.



The next morning was very hard to wake up to. But when the sunshine hit my face from the window, I couldn’t stay asleep any longer.

I got out of bed and looked around my room. On the other side of my bed I noticed one of the older floorboards was sticking up. I squatted down to take a look. I could see something. It was brown and black and had a rectangular shape to it, and without thinking I pulled it up and struggled not to sneeze when all the dust came flying around.

What’s this? I thought to myself. Spellbook?

I flipped through the pages and stopped at one that had words that looked like complete gibberish.

“Samantha!” my mom called. “Come down here! I want you to meet our neighbors!”

“One second, Mom!” I called back.

I threw the book on my bed and walked over to one of the boxes in the corner that was marked Samantha’s clothes. I grabbed a shirt and some shorts and changed quickly. I also found a hairbrush and brushed the knots out of my hair and put it in a pony tale.

I walked down the stairs and in a shy whisper I said hello.

“Samantha, this is Dan, Maggie, and their daughter Cristy,” my mom said. “They live right across the street.”

I looked at her and realized she was still in her pajamas. That made me laugh.

Dan was tall, pale, scrawny, and his hair was long like my stepdad’s. Maggie, on the other hand, was short and tan with blonde hair. Then there was Cristy, very tall like my friend Kenya back home. Long brown hair, scrawny, bright, and blue eyes (like mine).

Cristy slipped away from her parents and made her way over to me.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Cristy.”

“I’m Samantha.”

I felt dumb. My hands were behind my back and I was looking up at the ceiling. If you ever know somebody that’s shy, compare them to me and they will seem social.

“So Samantha,” Cristy said, “what grade are you going into?”

“Seventh,” I answered, hoping she wasn’t much older than me.

“I am too,” she replied.

I felt relieved that I probably wasn’t going to have a friend problem this school year since I had already just met one.

When they left I started to unpack. The week went by fast, but it was pretty much unpacking, nights with me trying to get to sleep, and long phone calls with my dad and other friends.

After a week of settling in, my Mom told me I should invite Cristy over. I didn’t know if I wanted to, but I had no friends yet and Cristy seemed nice, so I wanted to give her a chance.

I walked out the door and looked both ways before I crossed the busy road. I knocked once, no answer. So I rang the doorbell, no answer. Maybe they weren’t home.

I started to walk away but then Dan appeared at the doorway.

“Oh, hi Samantha. Do you need Cristy?”

“I was just going to see if she could hang out,” I said.

Cristy appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hi.”

“Do you want to hang out for a little while?” I asked.

“Sure,” she responded quickly.

We left and went over to my house. The second we got into my room she noticed the book on my bed.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking it up.

“An old book I found under one of the floorboards.”

“This book is amazing,” she said, flipping through the pages. She stopped suddenly. 

“What is it?” I asked, curiosity flooding through me.

“It-it’s the picture,” she said.

“It’s just of a boy. I don’t understand.”

“Last summer I went to camp,” she started. “We were all sitting around the camp fire, roasting hot dogs and singing songs. Then the camp counselor told us the story of the Spellbook. He told us about a boy, Andrew Spellman. He lived in a house in Lakeview. Andrew was a sweet boy, but he didn’t have anyone that cared for him. His mother yelled at him and his father ignored him. He was an only child. No friends, no brothers, no sisters, no pets. Just him. One day he was in the attic cleaning and he found a guide to a magical book. He used the guide and found that the book was in his own bedroom. He knew if he could take the power from the book and make it a part of him, he wouldn’t always feel like a loser. But when he tried, it sucked him right into the book. And nobody ever saw him again.”

“What does this have to do with this book?” I asked.

“Do you have an attic?” Cristy asked, completely ignoring my question.

“Yeah, it’s right out there.” I pointed to the hallway ceiling. I was beginning to get scared.

“We’re going up,” she said.



She pulled down the attic staircase.

I slowly climbed up. I was trembling from head to toes, but I told myself there was nothing to worry about. It was just an attic.

“I remember how old this was when it was first built,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I thought this was a newly built house.”

“Well, kind of. Until they remodeled it.”

“They remodeled it?” I asked. This was the first I had heard of this.

“Yeah, about three years ago when I first moved in. It was really run down and old.”

I thought it was kind of weird that my mom and Brian didn’t know about that, but I excused the thought from my mind. I looked over to Cristy who was staring blankly at a piece of paper.

“What’s that?” I asked, walking over to her.

She studied the paper closely. “It almost looks like…”

“What?” I asked.

“It looks like the guide to the Spellbook.”

“I thought this was in Andrew’s house?” I said, referring to Cristy’s story.

“I think it is,” Cristy said.

How?” I asked. “That’s impossible.

“Well, maybe this is Andrew’s house.”

I was so confused, but more than anything I was scared.

“Cristy!” Mom yelled up. “It’s time for you to go home!”

“Bye,” she whispered.


But Cristy was gone.

I was getting nervous about this whole Andrew deal. I thought about it all day. I couldn’t believe it. The words that Cristy said kept replaying in my mind. Maybe this is Andrew’s house, maybe this is Andrew’s house. I could picture the terrified look on her face.

I went downstairs to tell my mom goodnight, but she had some exciting news.

“Samantha, guess what? Tomorrow the town is having their annual fair and it’s just right down the street. I was wondering if you would want to go and invite Cristy?”

“That sounds fun,” I said, hoping it would take my mind off things.

“Go to bed and I’ll call Cristy’s mom,” she said.

I went upstairs and drifted off to sleep. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, so I finally got up to get a glass of water.

I crept down the stairs went into the kitchen. I stopped when I saw the refrigerator door was open.

“Who’s there?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know. It had to be Andrew, searching the house for the book. I heard him jump right as I said that. He looked up from the fridge, but it wasn’t a he – it was a she. It was my mom.

“Sweetie, what are you doing up at 3:00 in the morning?” she asked.

“Getting some water,” I said.

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“What are you doing up?” I asked in a hushed whisper, remembering other people were still asleep.

“Oh, having a little midnight snack … or I guess a 3:00 snack.” She smiled and opened the freezer. “Don’t tell your dad I let you do this.”

She pulled out some ice cream and two spoons.

“So, it seems like something has been bothering you lately. Is that true?”

I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t. It was too strange.

“I guess it’s just being in a new town, that’s all,” I said quickly. “Goodnight.”

I laid down my spoon and ran upstairs to make sure the book was still in its place. It was there, but I had this feeling that I had to protect this book. But I didn’t know why.

I went back into my room and tried to get some sleep.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be filled with nightmares.



It was a new day.

I staggered into the bathroom and attempted to tame my hair. It was work, I can say that. Then I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and did everything I needed to so I could get to the fair.

I started down the stairs and could smell the fresh pancakes. The smell grew stronger as I walked farther down. When I reached the bottom I could hear my mom humming a familiar tune, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“Hey guys,” I smiled, and quickly snagged a pancake. I almost shoved the whole thing in my mouth, but my mom reminded me I should probably take bites. I wanted to go much faster though, because I wanted to go to the fair with Cristy.

“Bye everybody!” I said.

“Wait, I have something to tell you.” A wide grin spread across my mom’s face. “Guess who’s coming up to see you tonight?”


“Your dad!” she yelled.

“Dad’s really coming to see me?”

“Yep, he should be here around one today!”

I could tell she was really excited for me.

“Awesome!” I yelled.

“Ok, get going. You don’t want to have to wait in huge lines at the fair.”

She smiled and I took off out the door.

I walked across the street to Cristy’s house and knocked. Dan answered almost immediately.

“Hi, Dan,” I said. “Is Cristy here?”

“Yes, she is just getting ready for the fair. Cristy!” he yelled. “Samantha is here!”

Cristy walked out of the kitchen.

“Hi,” she said. She looked at Dan. “Dad, are you embarrassing me again?”

Dan let out a small chuckle. “No, I was just saying hi.”

“Bye, dad,” Cristy yelled about halfway out the door.

Cristy obviously must have missed having someone to hang out with. I was glad I could take that position. She seemed like she would be very fun to be around.

“Sorry about my dad,” she whispered, still worried he could hear.

“It’s fine. So I thought we could take another look at this ‘Spellbook’,” I said sarcastically.

“Ok, sure.”

Suddenly pain shot through my leg and I fell to the ground. The book went tumbling away.

“Cristy!” I called out. She hadn’t even noticed me. “I tripped. Wait!”

“What happened?” she asked, coming over to me.

”My leg got all stiff and I just couldn’t walk on it anymore.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t insult the book,” she said laughing.

I stood up. “Well, whatever happened, I can walk now.”

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Hold on, I dropped the book.”

She looked back behind me and pointed to what I thought was the house next door. But when I turned around there was a man getting ready to come over and talk to me. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

“I’ll take that,” he said.

His voice came out muffled, as if he couldn’t talk like a regular person. He was also as pale as the clouds above us, he was as thin as a board, and he was as scary as a ghost.

Just as my thoughts were getting a hold of me and taking over the real focus of the situation, he grabbed the book from the ground.

“Hey, that’s mine!” I yelled to him.

“Quiet, slave.” This time his words were raspy and harsh.

I was shocked, I was paralyzed. Who did he think he was? Why did he want my book? Why did he think he was in charge?

Those questions ran through my head for a matter of seconds, and then I realized I needed to do something.

I took a step back and tripped again on a rock. Just as I looked up he faded away completely, like he was never there.

I stood up feeling uneasy, my breath coming out in short clips of air. Cristy looked at me. Her face was terrified, as was mine. I tried to speak, but no words came out. I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to blurt out ghost! Goblin! I wanted to yell ‘monster’ but I didn’t believe it.

“He-he dropped the book,” she said.

I looked and saw the book was sitting on the ground. Cristy looked at me then scurried over to pick it up.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He just disappeared.”

“Let’s go back to your house,” Cristy replied.

I nodded and started to limp a little. My poor leg hurt like crazy.

We walked into the house and sat down on my couch. She looked at me and then at the book. She opened to the first page, and I nearly jumped out of my seat when I saw it.

There was a picture of a man. It was similar to the man Cristy described in her story … and very similar to the man that we just saw.



I tried to visualize the man that had tried to take the book. Butterflies were swarming around in my stomach as those thoughts replayed in my mind.

“Cristy, did that man look like an actual person?”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her words came out shaky.

“Well, he almost looked like he was … faded.”

I could tell she didn’t really understand what I was saying. At all.

“And look here in this picture,” I said. “He looks like he’s fading away from the book as well.”

I was trying to put the facts together, but there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Wow, I think you’re right,” Cristy exclaimed. She glanced at her watch. “Uh oh. It’s really late. I better get home now.”

She hurried off to her house, and I went up to my room. I opened my closet doors and out of the corner of my eye I noticed an old suitcase. I figured that would be a good place to store the book, because it was an old bag, and I had an old book. It was a match made in heaven.

Just then the doorbell rang. I tossed the book on my desk and hurried downstairs to the door. I was just about ready to open it, but I hesitated thinking it could be that man. But with a bit of courage and a couple deep breaths I opened the door. And to my surprise it was no ghost at all. It was my dad!

I threw my arms around him and hugged him as tightly as I could.

“I’m going to be staying with you for a couple days,” he said. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds awesome,” I said. “I missed you.”

I wanted to cry because I wanted to be home. It was especially hard that part of home was here with me today, my dad.

I fought back tears thinking about Iowa City.

“So where’s your mom?” he asked.

“I’m not quite sure.”

“Wow,” he said, “you’re in a new city and a new neighborhood and you and your mother have lost each other?”

“Yep, pretty much.”

He laughed.

“Mom, are you home?” I shouted.

She staggered down the stairs, looking more tired than usual.

“What are you doing, Mom?”

“Just some cleaning,” she replied, holding a box of what looked to be junk.

She glanced at the person standing next to me (dad). “Hi, how are you?”

“Good,” my dad said.

“I’m going to go upstairs real quick,” I said, running up the stairs. “Be right back!”

I walked down the long narrow hallway to my bedroom. I entered the room and noticed immediately Spellbook was gone.

All the sudden I heard a truck come screeching to a stop. I looked out my window and saw my mom walking down the driveway. A Good Will truck was sitting there, and I saw my mom give them the box. Now I was really nervous. If the book was in there, it would be gone.

I ran down the stairs.

“Mom, did you happen to find a book in my room?”

“I did find a book as I was just cleaning. It looked old so…”

“So what?” I asked.

Mom said, “I gave it away with the other stuff.”



I glared at my mom. I felt bad though, because I knew she didn’t know. I started out the door to go get Cristy.

“Where are you going?” Mom asked.

“Good Will!” I shouted back. “Is that ok?”

“It’s fine. Be safe.”

I was halfway across the street when I realized I needed my bike. I opened up my garage, grabbed my bike, and then went over to Cristy’s house. I knocked on the door and Cristy answered.

“Grab your bike,” I demanded quickly. “We have to go.”

“But I need to stay home now,” she protested.

“Now,” I repeated. “We need to leave now.”

Without asking one more question she did what she was told. Her face looked as confused and worried as mine did.

“We need to go to Good Will,” I said.

We wheeled our bikes out of her driveway and headed to Good Will. Only then did I tell her the story.

We finally reached the store after a long journey that took us past two parks, one soccer field, and a miniature mall. We locked our bikes up and ran inside. We searched every possible book shelf in the store, front to back. We found nothing. Just then, Cristy started pointing.

“Look!” she yelled.

It was the man, Andrew, with the book in his hand. He took one look at us and ran. We tried to catch up with him but he was way too fast. We saw him running towards the beach, and once again he practically just disappeared.

“We lost him again,” I said, catching my breath.

“What’s this?” Cristy asked, bending down.

“What is it?”

“It’s his jacket,” she said.

“What can we do with that?” I asked, wondering what she was thinking.

She was studying the jacket. She reached into the chest pocket.

“Just as I thought,” she said, relieved that she was right. She slipped out a piece of paper. “Andrew is a real person now, right?”

“Um … I guess so. Why does that even matter?”

“He probably needs to have an ID right?”

“Why?” I asked. I could tell Cristy had caught onto something.

“Because if he got caught stealing the book from us he would get in even more trouble if he didn’t have some form of identification. Now we can find out where he lives!”

“I guess that sounds right.”

“Let’s go get the book back!”

“But it could be dangerous,” I said, unsure of what we were getting ourselves into.

“Come on,” Cristy said as she pushed me in the direction of the beach.

“Wait,” I choked out. “I’m kind of scared.”

“Come on. We’ll be fine.”

“Ok … but we need to get our bikes.”

“I thought about that, but I don’t want to risk our bikes getting stolen while we’re there. The beach is a magnet for people and usually every inch of it is packed.”

“But if we leave our bikes here they could get stolen also,” I reminded her.

“They’re locked up here,” she said. “Let’s go!”

I really wanted to seem brave, but I could tell that my face was as white as clouds, and I was sweating as much as a Popsicle on a hot day.

“Ok,” I said nervously. “Let’s go.”

We headed down to the beach.



It took us about fifteen minutes to get to the beach, and when we got there it was completely deserted.

“Cristy, I thought you were worried someone would steal our bikes because the beach would be so crowded,” I said.

“Well, I guess it isn’t busy today,” she said.

I examined the beach closely. It had no sign of life in it.

“Hey, look over there, Samantha.”

A small house about the size of a two car garage was sitting right there in the middle of a beach.

“So what’s our plan?” I asked, wondering if this had even crossed Cristy’s mind.

“I thought you had one,” she said in a nervous tone.

I shook my head. “I’ve got nothing.”

“Well, I guess we go inside and get the book so he doesn’t suck every bit of it into his body.”

“I guess that will work.”

We approached the steps. A cold December wind swept across the beach (even though it wasn’t December). But it sure felt like it.

I walked up the stairs. They creaked each time we moved. Cristy was close behind me. She wasn’t the quietest person in the world.

Just at that moment a light bulb lit up in my head. “I’ve got a plan.”

I knocked on the door as loud as I could, then I motioned for Cristy to slide under the porch. No one came. I didn’t want to go back up there, so I grabbed a pebble and launched it at the door.

Just then I realized I was terrified. If this didn’t work out … what would he do to us.



He came to the door and looked in both directions, but he didn’t see us. As he turned around and staggered back in the house I jumped up and grabbed the door before it shut, just in case it was locked.

We wandered into the first room we saw and hid under the bed. I started to feel my heart beating uncontrollably fast, and I couldn’t breathe whatsoever. 

“Cristy, maybe this was a bad idea,” I whispered.

“The book!” she said.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“No, I mean there’s the book,” Cristy said, pointing to the table.

My eyes found their way over there.

“Let’s grab it and get out of here,” I said.

We slowly crawled out from under the bed and I grabbed the book, clutching it tightly in my hands.

We started going in the direction of the front door but stopped when we heard footsteps.

“Maybe there’s another way out through the basement,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me down to the cellar.

It was dark, cold, and moldy in the basement. This was unfortunate because I was allergic to mold.

I started to sneeze frantically, my throat started to get dry, and I could feel my eyes swelling up.

“We need to get you out of here,” Cristy said.

Those were the last words I heard before everything went dark and still. It was almost like I had been knocked out by something. Not by a person’s hand, but maybe a spell.

When I woke up I was tied to a chair, sitting back to back with Cristy, who was also tied up. It took my eyes a little bit to adjust to the whole scene. Andrew was staring at us.

Then I realized we were still in the cellar, in his house.



“So you decided to pay a little trip to my home,” Andrew said.

“Give us the book,” Cristy demanded. The bravery in her voice shocked me.

“And, if I refuse and keep you tied up? Then what will you do?”

Just then I felt the rope tugging from behind. Cristy was trying to get out.

“Well, if you think you can just keep us here, you’re wrong,” Cristy said.

“I think I might just get away with this one,” he said. 

Cristy was struggling even harder to escape, but it wouldn’t budge.

“This book is going to make me the most powerful man alive!” Andrew shrieked.

I was struggling to escape now as well. I wanted out! I wanted the book back. But I couldn’t do anything.

Before I could even break free of the ropes, he started rising above the ground.

“No!” I yelled.

He started to speak, but they were not normal words coming out of his mouth. They were evil chants … he was making the book a part of him.

Cristy was kicking the chair and struggling harder than ever. Suddenly she broke free and darted toward the book.

Andrew was now screaming magical chants. His hands flew off the book and the book was rising completely alone. Colors went shooting everywhere and light filled the room.

For a moment I was blinded by the light, but I had to find Cristy so she could cut me free. Instead of completely panicking I just took a breath and reminded myself that to every problem there was a solution, so I laid down the facts in my head.

The first fact was Andrew had the Spellbook and I needed it. Second, I had to remember that none of this was a myth and Andrew wasn’t just a bedtime story.

My only solution was to get out of this chair and get the book. But the ropes were too tight and I couldn’t break free. But if I could get him back into the book, that would fix everything. And I knew I could do that because the power in the book was real.

The book was magical.



My eyes started to burn as the light poured out of the book and into Andrew. Maybe another ten seconds and the power would be his. I knew it for a fact, but just before anything could get worse Cristy jumped up, grabbed the book, and started to run.

Everything stopped suddenly. The light, the chanting, the book and Andrew came to the ground and everything was quiet for a moment.

Andrew looked confused at first, and it took him a second to adjust to the whole situation before he spotted Cristy and ran after her. I stuck my foot out and tripped him in the process. While he was down on the ground I managed to break free.

I ran toward Cristy, grabbed the book out of her hands, and went right back to Andrew, who was just starting to get up.

“No, we have to leave!” Cristy shouted.

“Wait! I brought him into the world and I’m going to bring him out!” I yelled.

I flipped through the book until I found the page that used to have Andrew’s picture on it. I knew what we had to do. He had been trapped inside the book and every time we used the book he began to slowly come out of it. And now he was almost human, an evil human.

I opened the book as wide as I could, but Andrew grabbed my ankle and I fell to the ground. I looked around and noticed the book was just a few feet away from both of us.

I crawled and looked over my shoulder at Andrew who was about ready to grab it. I stretched my hand out as far as I could and snatched the book before he could. I took one last look at Andrew and slammed it right over his head. There was a flash of light and a loud boom and I went flying across the room.

When I gained consciousness everything was gone and Cristy and I were back at the beach, standing there with the book laid out in front of us. I didn’t understand what had happened for a moment, but then I remembered that when Andrew was still in the book he didn’t have a cabin or clothes or anything like that, so when he disappeared all of his stuff that he had magically created disappeared as well.

“Let’s go home,” Cristy said, interrupting my thoughts.

We sprinted across the beach, stopped at Good Will to retrieve our bikes, then raced down the streets as fast as we could to get home. We ran inside and I hugged my mom and dad really tight.

“I missed you guys so much,” I said.

“We just saw you like a half hour ago when you left for Good Will,” my dad said.

I didn’t realize that when everything of Andrew’s disappeared, so did all that time. It was like none of it ever even happened.

I turned to Cristy and smiled. “Let’s get rid of this book forever.”

I went to my closet and grabbed my old suitcase. I threw the book inside, zipped it up, wrapped duct tape around the whole thing twice, and put it in a huge box. Then I put that box in one more even bigger box. I covered it in stamps. The address was to China.

I did not put a return address on it.

Cristy and I hugged for what seemed like hours that day. We had been through a lot. I couldn’t believe how close of friends we were from then on, we did everything together, and never again did we ever mention the SPELLBOOK.




About the author…

At age eleven, Samantha (or Sami Therme) wrote this book. Her dad, Erik, gave her the idea to write about a spell book. Her dad also went through it with her and helped her with punctuation, but the story was done on her own. She lives in Iowa City, Iowa, with her dad, and in Coralville with her mom. She has one brother and two sisters. In her free time she likes to: Play the flute, do gymnastics, and write. This is Samantha’s first book, and she hopes she will write many more. She also hopes for lots of good feedback, and remember she wants GOOD feedback. She cares about your opinions, but it’s her first book so anything you don’t like … oh well! She hopes you all enjoy it!