He shrugged nonchalantly in answer as he walked away. Zahra looked after him as he left, a thoughtful frown puckering her parchment skin.
(End of part 2)
*
“1961- The building of the Berlin Wall. This came about because… Well, there was the Soviet Union and they…Ermm.”
Holly flicked back through the pages on her lap. “When am I ever going to learn this?” She muttered as she drew out the paper she was looking for and skimmed the information.
My mind is a sieve.
She breathed out heavily and pressed one hand to her throbbing temple.
Three days after the nighttime encounter, it had become nothing but a hazy dream to Holly. She had succeeded in sternly repressing it from her mind- with the aid of piled high coursework and looming deadlines.
Her body felt strangely rejuvenated- even better than it had before. No aches and pains plagued her. In fact, she felt unusually healthy ,if you disregarded the stress of homework. She had become convinced with the possibility of suffering from a twenty-four hour bug; all concerns of murderers and the supernatural ignored.
To be happily replaced with dates and countries I’ve never even heard of before.
There were only two things, minor annoyances, that managed to intrude on her calm.
Sleep, although easy enough to come, was not relaxing. She would sink into dreams; vivid, disturbing dreams, that if shaken off would only return the moment she closed her eyes. She’d wake repeatedly during the night- every couple of hours- by her own screaming. The bed clothes would be twisted as if she had been thrashing around; her pillows tossed on the floor- sometimes even ripped.
The dreams were always on the same subject; running away from some un-known threat that she couldn’t escape. Sometimes she was in a forest: not one commonly found in England, but a woods blanketed in snow with towering pines on all sides.
She’d run, the ice seeping through the thin soles of her shoes to freeze her toes . The trees would provide constant obstacles for her to weave and dodge around.
Always she would be sweeping her head back and forth, searching for that mysterious presence that was constantly behind her. She knew she had to get away from it and the urgency pushed her onwards deeper and deeper into the forest, the snow level rising to her knees so that she had to wade her way forwards.
The trees would whisper to her to carry on, that who she ran from was gaining on her. She’d hear no sound but would know that they were near, she’d continue as her heart pounded and her breath came in short gasps.
The dreams ending never changed. She’d come to a small clearing; she’d stumble to the middle; she’d fall. Holly would roll over to see a figure emerge from the trees. Her hunter would glide towards her and she’d scream…
Other times she would be in a crowded street, trying to push past blank faces but constantly being repelled back. Her dreams had taken her to dark alleyways, nightclubs and deserted parks. She’d be shown different variations of the same event repeatedly from when she lay down at night till when she rose in the morning.
Never could she remember her pursuer, nothing about them except the glittering green eyes that approached before she woke.
Still, these were only dreams. Make believe. She did not suffer the symptoms of sleep deprivation despite the nightmares and as soon as morning came the frightening images were pushed to the back of her mind. The second irritation was more disturbing.
Every time Holly looked up from her work quickly or glanced in the mirror she would see a face. Sometimes it would only be there a split second and then it would be gone, as if she had imagined it. But other times it would be just a moment longer, she’d blink and then there would be an empty space where sunken cheeks and sallow skin had been.
All she ever saw was the head, but that was enough to turn her stomach. He was thin, very thin, his skin had a yellow tinge to it and dark shadows beneath hollow, almost black, eyes. The face was that of an adolescent, a sickly, starved teenager. There was no plumpness or softness to his features and his head was shaven, emphasising the lumpy structure of his skull.
The vision was often accompanied by sounds of movement: a creak of floorboards, a brush of wind against her cheek. She could not help but speculate over the presence of this image that she kept glimpsing- even though out loud she told herself it was nothing but a hallucination.
Holly was determined to ignore every shiver that ran down her spine, every fearful thought. She had to focus, she had no time for childish fears.
Sitting cross-legged on her bed with sheets spread out before her, she chewed the end of her biro and frowned. She had read the same sentence three times now and still it washed over her, not one of the words registering.
Chocolate, that’s what I need.
Tossing her pen to one side, a smile lit her face at the very prospect of sugar. She had not left her house in days, containing herself to her room, the bathroom and the kitchen. Even a short trip down to the shop seemed exciting.
Holly shoved on a pair of trainers, ran a brush through her hair and yanked on her jacket simultaneously. Grabbing her wallet and keys off the side table she skipped down the stairs and out the door, locking it behind her.
Fresh air met her as she stood, inhaling deeply and turning her face up towards the clear blue sky. Despite the grey buildings and concrete that surrounded her, it felt good to be out in the open. After waiting a minute to feel the breeze and hear the sounds of the world no longer muted by walls, she walked down the few steps to the pavement. A grin spread across her face.
Stupid. To feel happy so suddenly for just walking a few feet from the house.
Her thoughts chided her but they could not dampen her delight in the outdoors, nor prevent the bounce in her step.
There were footsteps behind her.
Holly walked a little to one side, allowing whoever walked further back to overtake but they didn’t. Swivelling to look she stopped. Her joy swiftly evaporated.
There was no-one there.
Stop being silly.
She shook her head and continued forwards. She shouldn’t allow her imagination to take control.
Holly tried to focus once more on the sky, on the pleasant sensation of the wind on her cheeks. Still her ears strained, waiting for the sound of someone following.
Thump, thump, thump.
She couldn’t fail to hear the noise. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she quickly turned her head again.
No-one.
This time she peered closer, was there anywhere they could be hiding? There were several trees and bins that lined the street- surely they wouldn’t have had time to duck behind one.
She laughed nervously at herself.
“I’m such an idiot,” She muttered as she faced forwards again and walked on. The sky no longer looked so blue and clear, it was more steely and ominous clouds crowded the horizon. The breeze wasn’t refreshing, it was chilling. It pierced straight to her bones and stung her eyes.
Thump, thump, thump.
Her teeth clenched. She wasn’t going to turn around again. Maybe the noise wasn’t footsteps, perhaps the thumps were from some open shed door, being swung back and forth by the wind. It could be a branch smacking against a lamp post.
She tried hard to believe the excuses she came up with, but the noise sounded like nothing but feet thudding on the pavement.
She hummed tunelessly, keeping her pace steady though a part of her felt compelled to run down the street.
Thump, thump, thump.
They sounded nearer.
Holly focused on the bright yellow sign of the corner shop and allowed her legs to move a little faster.
She found her head looking back over her shoulder of its own accord. Her eyes met those of the lifeless teenager. His white protruding cheekbones, his vapid stare.
Her legs kicked into gear and she sprinted as fast as she could down the road.
She did not look back, she could not look back.
It was only once she had reached the safety of the shop, pulling open the door and closing it swiftly behind her that she allowed herself to peer through the glass. She rested her arm on the frame as she panted for breath, gazing out to see the empty street.
*
“She’s a match.” Zahra sounded triumphant, her face alight. “We’ll move on her tonight.”
Thanks for reading!
