9

   “Mally, snap out of it!” I scream.

   My words echo eerily around the cavern.

   “Out of what?” Mally asks, normal again.

   “You were being all weird. You kept asking who I was, and talking to Mrs MacCodrum when she isn’t here, and reciting a poem.”

   Mally laughs. “I don’t know any poems. All I know is I said I didn’t abandon you, and then you said snap out of it.”

   “C’mon, funny joke. You were saying some sort of poem about scars and souls and following you.”

   “Laugh out loud,” Mally says dryly.

   “Seriously. First you were telling me how you hit your head, then –”

   “Hold it. I never hit my head.”

   “Yeah you did! I didn’t know if you were really there, or I was just imagining you, but you told me to reach out my hand and your forehead was all sticky with blood.”

   “Nuh-huh.”

   “It was! I don’t like it here, Mally, lets go.”

   “But this is where the others will come back for us!”

   “No, Mally, let’s go. Please!” I shout, tears pouring freely down my face.

   I don’t mind. If I concentrate on crying, I can’t panic. I don’t have to remind myself to breathe, it just comes. And I don’t have to slow the breaths down, either.

   “Fine. I’ll lead. Hold my hand and follow me. I don’t want you leading us into a wall, the state you’re in!” Mally laughs, trying to make a joke.

   Follow me, while you can. I’ll lead you, by the hand.

   “No! I lead!”

   “Why does it matter?”

   “Just – please. I have to lead. All the time.”

   I think Mally starts scowling. “Fine.”

   I sigh. The nightmare has just begun.