Chapter 11

03:07, SEVEN DAYS AGO

Darkness. Black, like the cat that sleeps on the wall at the bottom of the garden. The one that hisses and scratches.

She blinks.

Teddy Gordon’s eyes sparkle like a crow’s. He’s sitting on the end of the bed grinning at her. She hates Teddy Gordon. Hates his nasty blue fur. Hates his horrid stitched-on smile. Hates the way he smells of smoking.

Teddy Gordon knows she hates him. That’s why he’s friends with the monster.

If she had her way, Teddy Gordon would live at the bottom of the wheelie-bin, all dirty and stinky with the green-brown water that leaks out of the bin-bags. But Mummy says she has to be nice to Teddy Gordon, because Teddy Gordon was a present from a man Mummy likes. A man who gives her nice things. Much nicer things than Daddy ever did.

Daddy wouldn’t let Teddy Gordon sleep on the end of her bed.

Her room smells of bananas and ice cream, but the little plastic thing plugged into the wall by the nightlight still can’t cover the old-man smell of the blue teddy bear. The window glows a pale orange, making thick shadows between the chair and the wall, behind the toy cupboard, down the side of the wardrobe. Creeping out from under the bed…

She tries to lie really still and quiet, like a dead person.

She’s not awake. She’s asleep, like a Good Little Girl.

Only Bad Little Girls wake up in the middle of the night. That’s when the monster comes out.

She shivers, even though she knows she mustn’t move at all. Not even a tiny bit.

The monster doesn’t like Bad Little Girls.

The monster with its sharp white teeth and bright-red claws. Lie still. Don’t move an inch.

She can hear it, out in the hallway, creeping on its soft hairy paws, making the floorboards creak. Creak. Creak.

She holds her breath.

Go away. No one’s awake in here. Only Good Little Girls, fast asleep and dreaming of ponies.

Please go away…

But the monster knows.

A rattle. A clunk. And then the door groans like an old man.

A pause.

She holds her breath.

Go away. Go away. GO AWAY!

Good Little Girl. Sleeping.

The monster rustles, right beside her bed. Breathing.

Whooomph… Hisssssssss. Whooomph… Hisssssssss.

Standing right over her. In the dark.

Don’t move…

But her chest aches, like a big purple bruise. And then her body tells on her, gasping in a great whoosh of air. And now it’s too late: it knows she’s awake. Her eyes snap open…

Light spills in through the open door. Teddy Gordon grins from the bottom of the bed.

But the monster’s different. Its face is waxy-shiny, and it’s naked — its skin all crinkly white, rustling as it breathes.

Whooomph… Hisssssssss. Whooomph… Hisssssssss. One eye glows red in the darkness.

Daddy…

No…

Don’t leave us…

The monster reaches for her with sticky purple fingers. She screams.

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