Dance with Me

Elley Cooper
writes fiction for young adults and adults. She has always
loved horror and is grateful to Scott Cawthon for letting her spend time in
his dark and twisted universe. Elley lives in Tennessee with her family and
many spoiled pets and can often be found writing books with Kevin
Anderson & Associates.

---

Kelly Parra
is the author of YA novels 
Graffiti Girl, Invisible Touch
, and
other supernatural short stories. In addition to her independent works, Kelly
works with Kevin Anderson & Associates on a variety of projects. She
resides in Central Coast, California, with her husband and two children.

---

J
ake looked down at himself and tried to get used to the fact that
“himself” wasn’t anything like the himself he’d been used to being
before. Last he could remember, he’d been a little boy. He hadn’t been a
boy in a while … he didn’t know how long.
So it wasn’t totally weird that he wasn’t in a little boy’s body anymore.
But it was still pretty weird that he was in a thing that wasn’t alive. It was
also weird that he couldn’t remember exactly who he’d been when he was a
little boy. He had vague bits of memories, but they didn’t make sense. Like,
he could remember thinking it would be fun to come back to life as a puppy
or a kitten. But why would he think that?
Now here he was inside a metal thing. He didn’t know enough about
anything to understand what it was. But he did know he wasn’t alone. He
was sharing this strange space.
It was like waking up in in another family’s house.
“Hello?” Jake said.
“Who’s talking?” a child’s voice asked. The child sounded a little like a
boy Jake used to know in school, a boy who was always talking back to the
teacher and getting himself in trouble.
“Oh, hi,” Jake said. “I’m Jake. Who’re you?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Um, I was just being friendly.”
Jake remembered learning that the way to deal with kids like this was to
let them be as tough as they wanted to be.
“Sorry. I’m Andrew.” The child’s voice was rough. He didn’t sound like
he was saying his name. It sounded like he was throwing down a challenge.
“Hi, Andrew,” Jake said.
“Why can’t I see anything?” Andrew demanded.
“You can’t see the truck?” Jake asked.
“If I could see the truck, do you think I’d say I can’t see anything?”
Jake thought Andrew sounded angry. Very angry.
“Sorry,” Jake said. “Um, so we’re in the back of what I think might be a
trash truck? We’re with a lot of junk.”
“Figures,” Andrew said.
“How come?” Jake asked.

---

“Story of my life.”
“What do you mean?”
Andrew ignored the question. “How come you can see and I can’t?” He
sounded like he was gearing up for a tantrum.
“I’m really sorry. I’m not sure,” Jake said. “I mean, I know we’re in
some kind of metal thing, I don’t know, some kind of entity or something? I
can see what’s around it, but I don’t know how I got here, and so I don’t
know how 
you
got here. And I sure don’t know why I can see and you
can’t. But maybe I can help you see. Do you know how you got here?”
Andrew was silent for a minute. Jake waited.
“Well, it might have had something to do with the stuff I was in?”
“What stuff?” Jake asked.
“How is it any of your business?” Andrew snarled.
Jake sighed. “It’s not. I just thought it would be nice to be friends, and
friends get to know each other. So I just wondered what you meant by being
in stuff
.”
The truck ground to a stop, and there was silence.
“I haven’t had a friend in a long time,” Andrew said. His tone was
defensive, as if he was daring Jake to make fun of him.
“I’m so sorry,” Jake said. His memories were disjointed and muddled,
but he remembered he’d had friends. “That’s awful.”
Jake wanted to know more, but he knew better than to keep asking
questions.
The back of the truck opened, and a guy in coveralls started unloading
all the junk. “I could be your friend,” Jake said.
“Why would you want to be my friend?”
“I just like making friends,” Jake said.
“So how do we do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make friends!” Andrew made an exasperated puffing sound. “Geez,
you’re dense.”
Jake felt like he was making first contact with a new species, like in sci-
fi movies he could remember watching.
“We talk to each other, tell each other things and find out about each
other, and then we become friends,” Jake said. He figured that was close
enough.
“Like what things?” Andrew asked.

---

“Whatever you want.” Jake wanted to ask again about what Andrew
meant by being