Young Writers Society

I woke, after more nightmares, in a state of tiredness greater than that which I was in before sleeping. The pillow beneath me was heavenly soft, and as I eased my eyes open I saw the metal ceiling fan spinning rapidly above me, pouring cool air over my face.

It seemed to strike me as odd that I was in bed and that the fan was on. The clogs in my brain groaned to get turning as I tried to think straight. Last night came back to me slowly as I stared at the patch of carpet where I should’ve woken up.

My mobile flashed New Message on the nightstand beside me, splitting my thoughts. It was Dylan.

Hey girl, an idea just hit me. So I punched it in the fother mucking face xP jks but srsly call me.

I hit the call button immediately, he answered on the third ring.

“Ae?” At first I didn’t recognize the groggy voice as Dylan’s.
“Dyl? Its Alexis.”
“Why the bloody hell are you calling me this early?”
“Your text said to call…”
“That was last night. Christ woman, I was sleeping.”
“Well you’re awake now, so what did you want?” I snapped impatiently.
“Are you free tonight?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“Some mates and I are having a drink up on the ovals across from the lake. Wanna tag along as my plus-one?”
Like as your date? I wanted to ask. “A drink up?”
“Yeah. But if little Lexxiiee is too young for alcohol…”
“Pfft, like age will stop me,” I said. “I’ll be there. What time?”
“Ten.”
I gulped. How the hell was I gonna sneak out? “Sure.”
“Great.”
“Bye.”

As I trudged down the corridor the house was filled with the usual morning sounds of the kettle boiling, toast popping, and TV chattering away. Russell sat at the kitchen bench perusing the newspaper, his forgotten coffee steaming away at his elbow. Ingrid lounged on the couch munching on cereal. Mum wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“Did anything happen last night?” I asked, though at this point it was a fifty-fifty chance that I was delusional from the fever.
“Hmm?” Russell murmured.
“Last night, I thought I heard something bad happen…”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Ingrid sneered. “Do you?”
“Not at all,” Russell replied.
“I think she’s going crazy – I heard her talking to herself in the middle of the night the other day.”
“Shut up,” I snapped.
“There’s a place for people like you, there’s people that can take care of you,” Ingrid smirked. “They say the Wacol Mental Asylum is abandoned, but it isn’t true…”
“There’s a place for people like you; it’s called Hell.”
“That’s enough,” Russell interrupted. “Go to school Alexis.”
“What the hell, I just woke up!” I shrieked in protest.
“Get your uniform on,” Russell said in a calm and commanding – but still condescending – tone that I had never heard him used before, “and go to school. Now.”
“What ever,” I huffed, seeing no point in arguing against his request, no matter how tempting it was to defy him. “Anywhere is better than here.”




I strolled adjacent to the shimmering tarmac of the Forest Lake Village car park, and heads turned.

An old man trundling along with his walking frame stared at me grimly. The usually bored-looking, acne-ridden guy at the fish and chip shop watched me with interest. The few scattered people all spared me long glances as I picked up the pace on my march towards the shopping centre. Crow caws and distant traffic drowned the silence in my mind. My skin prickled uncomfortably. I cursed inwardly when I had to pause for the automatic doors to open.

Inside, the air-conditioning made me clammy. Why had they all stared? What was so different about me today? I skipped quickly to the girl’s bathroom, passing the smell of freshly baked bread from the bakery, and newly picked fruits from the fruit shop.

The door for the ladies room swung open before my hand reached the push sign, catching me by surprise. I scooted back a meter, and a middle-aged woman exited. Hissing and whispering carried on the perfume-scented breeze that washed over me as she passed. My eyes were fixed to her as she walked off.

What the hell was that?

For a moment of utter bewilderment, I forgot what I came here for.

The bathroom was dingy, despite the ‘wet floor’ sign that suggested it had been cleaned recently. I found myself in the expansive mirror, meeting my own gaze with a puzzled look. Was there something on my face? Anything strange about my appearance at all?

Nope. As far as I could tell as I examined my reflection, there was nothing abnormal at all, not even a “kick me” sign stuck to my back, or caution tape trailing from my shoe, as there had been once before.

I leaned closer to the mirror, staring into my eyes. The black ring that had always been around my sky-blue iris was darker and thicker than ever. The green ring close around my pupil was yellow today.

Something flashed in the mirror, and my eyes flicked to the spot where I saw it. More whispering hissing noises. I had been sure I was alone in the bathroom, but a wide grey eye stared vacantly through the crack between the toilet stall door and the wall. It was low down – someone who was short, a child. They peered at me unblinkingly as I washed my hands to rid myself of a dirty feeling; I watched them in the reflection.

“Hello?” the voice echoed sadly around the vacant room.
I turned around. The eye blinked. I leaned forward slightly to get a better look, trying to sound kind as I replied. “Um, hey. Are you stuck?” I crouched to the eye’s level, and it narrowed some, as if death-staring me.
“In darkness they wait,” the young girl said, “until all fall down.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me!” the voice snarled, no longer sounding gentle and child-like. The eye whipped away, vanishing in an instance. The door creaked open, and the stall was empty save the stained, over flowing toilet.

My eyes darted around the grimy room as my skin crawled from the paranoia. Where the hell did she go?

I exited as quickly as I had entered.

“Alexis!”
I turned at Dylan’s yell, and folded into his friendly embrace.
“Where are you of to in such a hurry?” he grinned.
I shrugged.
“Ok then... My dad determined the cause of death.”
Right, Dylan’s father worked at the morgue, and would be examining the body found this morning. “The kid drowned, didn’t he?”
“Nah. His throat was slit – he bled out. Looks like Mrs Hamner wasn’t tripping out when she saw her son getting taken.”
“Who does that? Who just takes a random two-year-old kid and murders them in cold blood?” I demanded.
“Satanists,” Dylan grinned. “Or people like me.” He waggled his eyebrows, his grin stretching to look insane.
I laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. “You monster, cut it out.”
“I’ll stop being an evil bastard when it stops making you laugh.”

I stopped laughing abruptly, and he frowned. “Dyl...” I hesitated, but his hazel eyes urged me to go on. I looked away quickly, blushing. “If I told you I saw something that’s totally impossible – insane -, would you believe me or tell me to seek help?”
Dylan considered it. “Seek help – I’ve always known you were the evil twin between you and Ingrid.”
I just nodded.
Taking my silence as a wounded one, rather than seeing my reluctance, Dylan said, “Oh come on, Alexis, I was kidding. Sure I’d believe you. What did you see?”
“I saw a girl,” I spoke slowly, unwillingly. My grin faded as I fixed my stare on anywhere but the insanely good-looking boy beside me. “Naked, in the bush.”
“That’s weird. Not insane though.”
“That’s not all. She... she turned into... Nah, you won’t believe me.”
“Yes I will, Alexis, you can tell me.” Again, those hazel eyes begged me to spill my deepest darkest secrets as his calloused hand held my forearm lightly.
“I thought I saw her turn into a wolf.” I cringed immediately, wishing I hadn’t said a word.
A long pause stretched between us, in which Dylan’s expression remained unchanged. “Bullshit.”
“Told you so.” I began to walk away, wanting to hit myself for spilling.
“No. Alexis. Bullshit,” Dyl grabbed me, spinning me to face him. “Seriously? You think you saw a lycanthrope?”
“Hey, I never said that. All I know, is that there was a girl, and the next minute, the girl was gone and there was a wolf instead.”
I let the silence drag out for Dylan to process all this, and for me to prepare myself for the onslaught of questions.
“When? Where? How?”
Sighing heavily, I grudgingly began to explain everything. Even the stares and the girl in the bathroom.

At the end of it all, Dylan began laughing. An empty, hollow laugh. “Are you on drugs? Hallucinogens? They can mess you up, I know from experience. Laters, Alexis.”
I gawped at him as he walked away. I’d been so sure he’d believe me. The whole time he’d listened intently, nodding, but. Obviously I was wrong.

“Are you ok, Alexis?”

I turned at the familiar voice. Phillip hovered hesitantly at the entrance to the Night Owl convenience store. I fought the urge to snarl and bare my teeth like an animal. I just wanted to be alone.

“I’m great,” I spat instead. “Just great.”
At that he approached me. “My brother being a dick to you?”

Sometimes it slipped my mind that the two were brothers – they looked and acted so different – but it wasn’t hard to believe that I only started hanging out with Phillip all those years ago to get closer to Dylan. I shrugged.

“Something like that.”

Deep thoughts clouding his hazel eyes, Phil leaned back against the back of the bench and watched the reflections pass by on the glass wall of the pizza parlour. I stared at the glass as he did, and felt the blood drain from my face.

The very girl I’d just told Dylan about swayed in the reflection. A slow smile spread across her face as she met my eyes in the glass. This time she wore an over-sized grey hooded sweat shirt that came down to her skinny knees. Her eyes looked like stone in the reflection; her black hair was the darkest thing in the echoed scene. She raised a hand, as if to wave, but left it hanging there.

“Alexis, are you listening to me?” Phillip inquired, waving a hand in front of my face. In the back of my mind, I knew he’d been talking.

I spun around, and where the girl stood in the reflection was nothing, just a bare patch of ground. A loose flyer tumbled over it, and the breath I didn’t realise I was holding escaped me.

“Are you ok?” Phillip repeated. “You look bloody terrified.”
“I... I’m fine. It’s nothing. I thought I saw someone I used to know.” I turned back, trying to compose myself.
“Who? What did they do to you to give you that look on your face?” There was a pause in which I didn’t answer. His face set hard. “I’ll bash ‘em.”
I laughed shakily. “Nothing, it was no one...”
“You’re a terrible liar.” His arms folded stubbornly, and my jaw set to match. “Fine,” he huffed. “If you don’t wanna tell me, whatever. I gotta go anyway, g’bye.”
“Look,” I started. Was I really gonna apologise to him though? Did I even care that he wasn’t happy with me? “I’m sorry, but if you wanna be that way, fine.”
He waved his hand dismissively with a frown. “Don’t worry about it, its not you, it’s ‘cause my dad’s over there, and I don’t want him to see me. Sorry. Bye.”

I watched him stride away, towards the shady car park. His black skinny jeans emphasized his lack of butt, and his too-big white t-shirt ruffled in the breeze as he went. I sighed a deep sigh, then wondered what it meant.

What did any of this mean?