when I realise what we’re up against. “So, how do we stop her?”
“Umm, Google it?” Lacey suggests with an apologetic shrug. She waggles a finger at me. “But whatever it is, you’re not testing it out on me.”
I climb to my feet. “Deal.”
“Where are we going now?” Lacey asks.
I can’t suppress this groa n. “Disco. At the campsite.”
Lacey doubles over with laughter. “You’re kidding me, right? A freakin’ disco? How old are you?”
“ Mum reckons I might meet a ‘nice boy’ to take my mind off of Seth.”
“Wow, even y our mum knows your love-life is dire. How does that feel?”
“If I could punch you right now, I totally would.”
“Gimme your best shot,” she says with a grin.
I roll my head and lift my shoulders to warm up. Lacey stands before me, seeming more solid than ever before. But I know my fist won’t connect with anything. I might get a chill and an electric shock though.
I retract my elbow, lift my arm, and plunge it forwards, smashing into Lacey’s face. Of course, my fist goes straight through her, throwing me forwards. It’s at that moment I lose my balance, and face plant into the grass, with the soft chuckles of my dead best friend as a soundtrack. My poor bruised body has had enough of me flinging myself to the ground.
“ Urgh, that was worse than last time,” I say.
“Did you get a chill?” she asks.
“Ice cold.”
“Oh, mate, I wish I could help you up right now. But I wish even more that I could’ve filmed it.”
I drag myself back onto my feet. “Don’t ever let me do that in public.”
“Agreed,” she says.
On the way back to the campsite, I find myself almost transfixed by the dark moors around me. It must be a lonely place to die—a frightening place. As appalled as I am about the deaths over the last five years, my heart tugs when I think of that little girl, betrayed by someone in the worst possible way. It’s too horrible to even think about. It makes you lose hope in humanity, makes you wonder if there is any good in the world.
Lacey decides that the hollow is better than a DJ who announces song dedications in a “radio” voice and disappears for a while. It’s probably for the best, because it’s much easier to act normal in public when she’s not around, and I’ve noticed my mum watching me, every now and then, her brow furrowed as though she’s trying to suss me out.
Music blares out of the hotel function room and barbecue smoke wafts through the air. Pre-teen girls giggle and run around the side of the building, being chased by a boy holding his two hands together as though protecting something inside.
“He’s got a spider!” one of the girls shouts breathlessly.
When I smile at her, I think of the little girl ghost out there, alone and afraid and murderous. I pull my cardigan tighter around my shoulders as I make my way to a small patio area outside the function room. Mum and Dad stand outside chatting to an elderly couple, both holding drinks. They introduce me with an enthusiastic pat on the back and I smile and nod along until it’s over.
Dad and I make our way to the barbeque, the smell of almost-burnt burgers like a siren call. Mum has us on a healthy eating kick for ninety percent of the year. We’re always in cahoots when it comes to sniffing out the nearest treats.
“Cheese?” he asks.
“Load her up,” I reply.
“You okay, Mares? It’s a strange old holiday so far, isn’t it?” he says.
“Strange is one way of putting it. Not all vacations start with the death of a child.”
“If it bothers you we can go home, you know. Your mother feels awful about it. She would never say so, obviously…”
“No, it’s okay, Dad. I want to stay.” I nod and plunge my teeth deep into the burger, relishing the grease while I can. After a pause to allow me to chew, I add, “It’s not so bad, here.”
“We just want you to be happy. We want you to get out there and make friends, you know, after
“Umm, Google it?” Lacey suggests with an apologetic shrug. She waggles a finger at me. “But whatever it is, you’re not testing it out on me.”
I climb to my feet. “Deal.”
“Where are we going now?” Lacey asks.
I can’t suppress this groa n. “Disco. At the campsite.”
Lacey doubles over with laughter. “You’re kidding me, right? A freakin’ disco? How old are you?”
“ Mum reckons I might meet a ‘nice boy’ to take my mind off of Seth.”
“Wow, even y our mum knows your love-life is dire. How does that feel?”
“If I could punch you right now, I totally would.”
“Gimme your best shot,” she says with a grin.
I roll my head and lift my shoulders to warm up. Lacey stands before me, seeming more solid than ever before. But I know my fist won’t connect with anything. I might get a chill and an electric shock though.
I retract my elbow, lift my arm, and plunge it forwards, smashing into Lacey’s face. Of course, my fist goes straight through her, throwing me forwards. It’s at that moment I lose my balance, and face plant into the grass, with the soft chuckles of my dead best friend as a soundtrack. My poor bruised body has had enough of me flinging myself to the ground.
“ Urgh, that was worse than last time,” I say.
“Did you get a chill?” she asks.
“Ice cold.”
“Oh, mate, I wish I could help you up right now. But I wish even more that I could’ve filmed it.”
I drag myself back onto my feet. “Don’t ever let me do that in public.”
“Agreed,” she says.
On the way back to the campsite, I find myself almost transfixed by the dark moors around me. It must be a lonely place to die—a frightening place. As appalled as I am about the deaths over the last five years, my heart tugs when I think of that little girl, betrayed by someone in the worst possible way. It’s too horrible to even think about. It makes you lose hope in humanity, makes you wonder if there is any good in the world.
Lacey decides that the hollow is better than a DJ who announces song dedications in a “radio” voice and disappears for a while. It’s probably for the best, because it’s much easier to act normal in public when she’s not around, and I’ve noticed my mum watching me, every now and then, her brow furrowed as though she’s trying to suss me out.
Music blares out of the hotel function room and barbecue smoke wafts through the air. Pre-teen girls giggle and run around the side of the building, being chased by a boy holding his two hands together as though protecting something inside.
“He’s got a spider!” one of the girls shouts breathlessly.
When I smile at her, I think of the little girl ghost out there, alone and afraid and murderous. I pull my cardigan tighter around my shoulders as I make my way to a small patio area outside the function room. Mum and Dad stand outside chatting to an elderly couple, both holding drinks. They introduce me with an enthusiastic pat on the back and I smile and nod along until it’s over.
Dad and I make our way to the barbeque, the smell of almost-burnt burgers like a siren call. Mum has us on a healthy eating kick for ninety percent of the year. We’re always in cahoots when it comes to sniffing out the nearest treats.
“Cheese?” he asks.
“Load her up,” I reply.
“You okay, Mares? It’s a strange old holiday so far, isn’t it?” he says.
“Strange is one way of putting it. Not all vacations start with the death of a child.”
“If it bothers you we can go home, you know. Your mother feels awful about it. She would never say so, obviously…”
“No, it’s okay, Dad. I want to stay.” I nod and plunge my teeth deep into the burger, relishing the grease while I can. After a pause to allow me to chew, I add, “It’s not so bad, here.”
“We just want you to be happy. We want you to get out there and make friends, you know, after
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