'I don't want dead things wearing my very special hat. 'You can't wear the hat because you're going to die someday.' She found a new voice, this one treacly baby-talk. Marjorie coughed and vomited more onto her too-full plate. I don't want you to mess it up.' She laughed. You can't wear my hat.' She didn't sound like herself. When she finished she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She watched Dad the whole time as the vomit filled her plate, some of it slopping over the edges and onto the table. The vomit was as green as spring grass, and the masticated pasta looked weirdly dry, with a consistency of mashed-up dog food. It just poured out of her as though her mouth was an opened faucet. She wasn't retching or convulsing involuntarily like one normally does when throwing up. Marjorie didn't react to either parent, and she didn't make any sounds. Mom: 'Honey, are you okay?' She jumped out of her seat and went over to Marjorie, stood behind her, and held her hair up. She opened her mouth, and vomit slowly oozed out onto her spaghetti plate.

She stopped twisting her spaghetti around her fingers. The longer we watched Marjorie and waited for her response, the more the temperature in the room dropped and I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Everything would be okay if Marjorie would only say yes to me wearing the sparkly sequined baseball hat, the one she'd made in art class a few years ago. Now I remember thinking that her answer could change everything back to the way it was Dad could find a job and stop praying all the time and Mom could be happy and call Marjorie shellfish again and show us funny videos she found on YouTube, and we all could eat more than just spaghetti at dinner and, most important, Marjorie could be normal again. Marjorie, could I wear your sparkly baseball hat?' “I said, 'I want to wear something funny and cool. Editions for A Head Full of Ghosts: 0062363239 (Hardcover published in 2015), (Kindle Edition published in 2015), 0062363247 (Paperback published in 2016.

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay