For the last two months, Carrie’s been sleepwalking. She would rise, usually around 1am, and I would watch her from my bed on the other side of the room; her dark figure making up her bed before wandering into the bathroom across the hall. There, she would stand in the dark, scrubbing her hands red raw with mummy’s new lavender soap. Her empty eyes unblinking in the mirror.
I would ask her, ‘Carrie, what are you doing?’
Her response would be delayed. She’d stop and turn to look at me, the water gurgling down the drain behind her, ‘I have to get it off. It’s sticking to me.’
‘What is?’
‘The mud, Maddie. You should wash your hands too, or mummy’ll be mad.’
She’d then float down the stairs, as if possessed by a ghost, her feet barely touching the steps. When she reached the backdoor, that’s when I’d stop her. But tonight was odd. Something told me to let her out into the garden. I waited for Carrie to turn the key and place her bare feet on the concrete.
‘It’s over there, Maddie.’ she said, pointing to the grass.
‘What is?’
‘My secret. I buried it over there.’
We both walked over to a fresh pile of mud Carrie had been telling daddy the dog had dug up. I fell to my knees and began sifting through the dirt, my fingers becoming caked in it. There, in the hole were the carcasses of dead birds; pigeons and crows mostly. Some were more decomposed than others. And our cat, Felix, who had gone missing a week ago. I covered my nose and mouth with my elbow.
‘Maddie,’ Carrie whispered from behind me, ‘I’m sorry I hit you.’
‘What?’
As I turned around, Carrie swung a shovel at my face. Everything went black.
SKFlashes 