The metal bucket scrapes against the concrete with a ghastly sound as I practically throw it under the tap. This was supposed to be a holiday, some downtime to spend with family on the school break. The shrink says it’s to get away from the ‘stressors’ – whatever that means. How am I supposed to focus on being less stressed when I didn’t even know I was stressed to begin with?
My hand stings from the rusted handle. A reluctant groan sounds before hot water spurts out from the old pipes with a lethargy that is almost relatable. I smirk, mildly amused. ‘You and I both.’
With a jolt of realisation, I glance up. Good, no one around. I wouldn’t mind people thinking I was crazy if I wasn’t actually crazy. It’s always worse when people call you things that are true.
A lock of cinnamon hair escapes from the messy bun piled atop my head. I stuff it somewhere else with a huff. There seems to be more lately. The things that I see. On the car drive here, I counted at least eight, mostly small little creatures climbing over logs and hiding in plants. They aren’t the ones that worry me so much, strange as they are. It’s the other ones – the larger ones. I give a small shake of my head. Don’t think about them. With a grunt, I heave the bucket alongside me, walking the edge of the amenities block, passing Mrs Livingston in the process.
‘Good morning, Siara,’ she greets before narrowing her large brown eyes. ‘Oh dear, are you okay, lovely? You’re looking a little pale.’
I give a sickly sweet smile in return. ‘Oh, no, I’m fine. Just a little tired.’
Her mouth mimics a trusting smile but her eyes tell me otherwise. She knows. She’s heard about my condition.
‘Have you seen your mother today?’
Her sudden question catches me off guard. ‘Oh, not since early this morning. Why?’
What has that woman done now?
‘I saw her just moments ago, looking quite frazzled. She asked if I knew where you were, and here you are.’
‘Here I am,’ I say, with an element of charm. ‘I’d better go find her then.’
‘Of course, dear,’ she says, her voice warm. ‘Siara, before you go, I heard about your great gran. I would like to express my condolences. She really was a lovely woman.’
My heart skips a beat, oxygen ceases to enter my lungs. My great gran’s final words linger like an infestation in my mind. No, don’t think about that. I don’t want to think about what happened. Sudden clarity brings me back.
So that’s what that look was for; Mrs Livingston doesn’t know about my condition, she’s just heard about Great Gran. To her, I’m not crazy – not yet, anyway – I’m just grieving. On instinct, I produce a disingenuous smile. ‘Thank you.’ She smiles back and we part ways once again.
Halfway there, I can almost see our little van. Despite the distance, it’s hard to miss. Its rusted metal edges and seventies-style curtains stick out like a sore thumb in this camp park of modern monstrosities. I scuttle across the ground, two arms straining under the weight of the bucket – I’m sure not entirely unlike a crab.
‘Siara!’
Did someone call me?
Hands snatch me from behind like claws on my shoulders. The bucket falls from my grip, water splashing out the sides as my fumbling hands try to save it on its descent. Luckily, only half has been lost. I throw a glare over my shoulder to my offender.
‘You can’t just sneak up on people like that,’ I snap.
‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?’ my mother interrogates, ignoring my remark. Her vibrant red hair is half done, and her energy chaotic.
‘So I’ve heard. What’s wrong?’
‘My phone. I can’t find it anywhere. It’s not in my bag, or the van, or my car–’
‘It’s in your back pocket. It’s always in your back pocket.’
She does a quick slap of the back of her jeans, joy overcoming her. ‘Of course! My beautiful smart girl. What would I do without you?’
Honestly, I have no idea.
She gives me a tight squeeze, her eyes lingering over me when we separate. ‘You know Siara I–’ She stops abruptly, shaking her head. ‘You know what? Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I have an important video call for work, but I’ll be back before dinner.’
‘But, Mum, you said–’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry – I really am. I know what I said but it’ll be quick. It’s really important. It looks like I’ll have to walk into town for it, the reception is shocking down here.’
I nod, turning to face her, but just as quickly as she had arrived, she is gone. My eyes eventually find her silhouette trekking up the road into the distance, a glowing phone held stretched out above her head searching for a satellite.
A shadow walks up alongside me. I ignore it. I’ve found it’s best to do that. Eyes straight and expression neutral. I can’t imagine what the creatures would do if they knew that I was aware of them, whether they actually exist or not, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
‘Hey, you want me to carry that?’
My fear resides. ‘Rye, thank God it’s just you.’
The broad arm stretches out across me, clasping the handle and carrying the metal pail with ease. He places his other hand against his chest, pretending to be mortally wounded. ‘Just me.’
‘Shut up. You know what I mean.’
He gives a wide grin, bumping his shoulders into mine. I return the favour in kind.
‘I didn’t even know your family was down here,’ I say as we start the stroll back to the van.
‘Just me and my sister this time.’
I nod. I don’t need to ask. I know that means that his nan isn’t well and I’m not good with topics like that, they remind me of… other things. Things I don’t want to be reminded of.
‘I see that your mother is as neurotic as ever,’ he whispers, saving me from my depressing train of thought.
