Staying with a friend

We unroll our sleeping bags content to stay up into the night wrapped in gossip and whispers.

A steady thump thump thump drifts down from the ceiling. Camilla goes up to investigate. 

She does not return.

The whispers begin again. Quieter this time.

A bowl of marbles is spilled above—the tumbling and rolling of hundreds of bits of glass echo through the room. 

Should we go and look? The attic light is still off from when Camilla flicked the switch. Was it Camilla who turned the light off?

We form a line. James in the front Vick in the middle and I take up the rear. One by one we climb the ladder. James flicks on the light as he is the first one up.

The attic is empty. No marbles. No, Camilla. There are clawing noises coming from the other end. We move still in formation. 

The light flicks out. James and Vick scold me. They think I flicked the switch.

I did not. I tell them as much, and then I feel it.

Fingers grip me. A hand wraps around my ankle. Two more around both of my wrists. More and more grip my arms, legs, and shoulders.

I can’t scream. I open my mouth and nothing. 

Marbles skitter over the floors. I feel them roll and hit my shoes. 

One step backward and then two. I need to leave. The lights are on downstairs. The hands can’t follow me there. 

I stumble as I scramble to make it to the attic opening and I fall through—the dark abyss above me. No sounds echo in my ears except the roll of marbles.

One marble falls through the opening behind me and lands on the floor. It’s bright blue, just like Vick's eyes.

I go to sleep on the couch with the lights on, and I wake up in my bed.