I stopped struggling and turned my face to the side, forcing my body to go limp. I made tears come and fake-cried, made my chest heave with desperate sobs. She loosened her grip on my wrists and I brought up my knees and smashed them into her stomach. She made an ‘oomph’ sound and rolled onto her side. I sprang to my feet and ran. My plan was to lead her away from the cottage into the woods to the spot I remembered from before.

She chased me, screaming, sounding like a demonic beast. She was a beast. A dangerous, crazy beast.

I glanced back and saw her holding something that glinted in the sunlight. A knife. She always carried a knife. I still clutched my nail, now bloody with her blood, but a nail was nothing compared to a knife.

I was shaking, legs wobbling like jelly, heart rattling about in my chest like shattered glass, but I made my arms pump, made my legs move. I had never run so fast. I was a wild bird flying through the trees. The thought gave me strength. I ran on, jumping and dodging, thorns tearing at my bare legs, the torn bandages on my feet trailing behind me like intestines ripped from a fresh kill.

The canopy above blinked light and birds cried out in horror, branches rustling as they scattered in fear.

‘MIRABELLE! STOP!’

I looked back. She was gaining on me. Catching up. Hair wild, eyes crazed.

I ran on, looking for the place that would save me, hoping I had remembered it properly, and then I saw something up ahead. A body. A body on the ground. I slowed down. Stared.

It was Patrick. Slumped up against a tree, his chin on his chest, eyes closed. Blood pooled around him. Caked him. Was he dead? I stopped. Maggots swarmed around his injured side. Flies buzzed in and out of the wound. His face was grey, his body was still. Dead. Patrick was dead.

A sob caught in my throat, but I was nearly there. Mother was still coming after me. I could hear her thrashing through the wood. I was too scared to look around, too scared to see how close she was to me.

I gritted my teeth. Gulped in air. I had to keep going. I had to find the place I’d seen before.

I ran.

Everything was a blur. Everything was strange yet familiar. There was no air. Fear strangled my lungs and panic pushed out every thought but somehow, through all the madness, I remembered where it was. I saw trees I recognized, clumps of moss, a clump of white fungi. And I knew. I knew I was close.

‘Mirabelle.’

I whirled around. She stood a few yards away, chest rising and falling, eyes dark.

‘Get back!’ I screamed, waving my nail wildly.