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stepped over the pile of slates. Standing in the corner of the garden, I listened to the slow, steady digging sound. I no longer thought it was an animal. It was unmistakably the sound of a shovel digging into the ground. I looked around the garden, but there was nobody there. I checked behind the hedge but there was nothing there either. The sound definitely seemed to be coming from the back left corner, but there was nobody about.
My heart started to beat loudly in my chest.
    Horribly confused, I took one more look around, then decided to make my way back to the caravan. All of a sudden the stillness of the night seemed scary rather than peaceful. I managed to take a few steps but then a sick feeling suddenly struck the base of my stomach. The feeling crept up my throat, forcing the air out so that it was difficult to breathe. Terrified that I was about to faint, I sat down on the ground and put my trembling hands round my bare knees. I bowed my head and tried to take slow deep breaths, but sitting on the ground just made me feel worse. My body was weak and I couldn’t see properly. I’d never felt like that before. I was so frightened that I tried to call out to Mum, but I could hardly breathe, let alone shout. I crawled into the centre of the garden. The further away I got from that back corner, the better I felt. Stones pierced the palms of my hands, but I barely noticed. A stale taste filled my mouth as I
tried to gasp for air and tears streamed down my cheeks.
    I could still hear the digging sound. It was getting louder now, filling my head so much that I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts. I turned round but my vision was so blurred I couldn’tmake out anything in the darkness. Desperate to get back to the caravan I tried to get up but stumbled and fell back down to the ground. The digging was getting louder and louder and louder, a heavy shovel scraping against the earth, as though it were grating against the sides of my brain. I lay huddled on the ground, feeling as if I was waiting for my own grave to be dug, to be buried alive by this invisible suffocating presence. I covered my ears with my hands and tried to let out a scream, but it was so weak that nobody would be able to hear it. I pushed my palms against my ears and let out another desperate cry for help.
    Then it stopped.
    The sound just stopped, suddenly, as if someone had pushed the pause button on an iPod. My vision returned to normal and I frantically looked around the garden. There was nobody there. Even Mum hadn’t heard my scream.
    Eventually I felt strong enough to stand. I wiped my face and hurried back to the caravan. When I was safely inside I poured a glass of water and tried to wash the stale taste from my mouth.
    ‘Are you OK, love?’ asked Mum, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her tired eyes.
    ‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘I was just in the bathroom.’ She didn’t notice that I was shaking. I held on to the edge of the counter for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened. Maybe something was wrong with me. The headaches, the nightmares … and now this. I couldn’t explain it. I put my head in my hands and tried to make some sense of the incident. It was as if that desolate part of the garden had wiped all my energy. Maybe I’d imagined that noise. Lack of sleep had kicked myimagination into overdrive. I tried to convince myself that was it, but I knew I hadn’t imagined it. I knew something very strange and very real had just happened.
    I gulped down the water and took off my trainers, then got into bed and pulled up the covers. I had been too warm before, but now felt an icy chill. Maybe I was really sick after all. I tried to push the thought out of my head but it kept coming back. An hour later I finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted, and for once I was actually glad that Mum had made an appointment for me to visit a doctor.

Chapter 5
    There was an emergency at the house, something to do with pipes, so Mum couldn’t