across her mouth, from one pale cheek to another.
And there, clutched in her hands, was a cracked and dirty porcelain doll, its one remaining eye fixed on me, as if watching for my reaction.
Iâd thought the day could not get any worse. But the day had just proved me wrong.
Caddie had once been Billyâs imaginary friend. Sheâd turned up at my school one day with her doll, Raggy Maggie, and had immediately made my life a living Hell. But Iâd eventually beaten her. To the best of my knowledge, she was one of the few fiends Iâd fought who was dead. Properly dead. And yet, here she was.
âRaggy Maggieâs very cross,â she said, derailing my train of thought. âYou sent us back to the bad place. We told you not to send us back to the bad place, but you didnât listen.â
She raised the doll to her ear and bobbed its head up and down. I could see that aside from the crack it had always had, the dollâs head was in one piece. The last time Iâd seen it, the head had been broken in two.
âYou think we should do what , Raggy Maggie?â Caddie asked. Her dark eyes looked me up and down. âYes, that would be a fun game, wouldnât it?â She smiled, then kissed the doll on its dirty forehead. âOh, Raggy Maggie, you are naughty.â
âYouâre dead,â I said, finally managing to find my voice. âYouâre dead. I saw you die.â
Caddie stamped her foot. It made a hollow thunk against the plastic bath. âThat is a horrible thing to say,â she said, her bottom lip turned out. She covered the dollâs ears with her hands. âDonât you listen to him, Raggy Maggie. Heâs horrible .â
âYou canât really be here.â I pressed a thumb and finger against my eyes, but they were still there when I looked again. âYouâre not here,â I insisted. âYouâre not real.â
The little girl let out her little giggle. âOf course weâre not real, silly,â she said. Her eyes went to the doll, and she began to swing Raggy Maggie lazily back and forth by her arms. âNone of this is real.â
I hesitated. She hummed a nursery rhyme softly below her breath. A draught came from nowhere and brought goosebumps to the back of my neck.
âWhat do you mean?â
âWell, of course it isnât real,â she said, her voice and face suddenly solemn. âMonsters, magic, people with sewing where their mouths are?â She looked sadly at Raggy Maggie. âTalking dolls? How could any of that be real?â
âBut... but it is real. All of it. I saw it happen.â
She stopped swinging the doll. âNo, silly, you dreamed it happening.â
I blinked, and she was out of the bath, standing right in front of me in high-heeled shoes that were far too large for her feet. âYouâre very sick, Kyle. And youâre dreaming,â she whispered. With one hand she raised Raggy Maggie until the dollâs face was right by mine. Its painted features came alive and crawled across the porcelain. The faded red mouth opened and a voice like dry leaves croaked out.
âAnd itâs time to wake up.â
The bathroom door flew open, the fragile lock snapping like a twig. Caddie and Raggy Maggie vanished like mist before my eyes, and when I turned to the door another familiar face stood there.
âAmeena?â
âThe one and only.â
âYou⦠You came back?â
My dad leaned round the door frame. âWe both did,â he smirked, then he reached into the bathroom and pulled me out on to the landing. Another shock of pain travelled the length of my spine as he tossed me against the wall.
âGet away from me,â I bellowed, shoving him with all my strength. He laughed off the push, then forced me against the wall for a second time.
âStill got some fight in you,â he said, his face right up in mine. âThatâs what
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