Don’t be stupid. Walk, she commands her legs. They aren’t goddamn snakes. Still she is paralyzed, still as marble. Something rustles in the leaf mold close by. She can almost feel the long body approaching. Walk, she thinks, with every inch of her will.

Ahead, Ted’s dancing light flickers and then vanishes among the trees. Dee is alone with whatever is coming through the dark. Soft, constant sound of a muscular body sliding.

Dee opens her mouth wider, wider, until her jaw strains and cracks. She screams in silence. She turns and runs for home. The whispering sound follows her, slithering fast, almost on her heels.

She locks the doors and windows. She takes the claw-hammer in hand and sits at her post. Her breathing is hoarse in the empty room. She looks at the old food wrappers and empty yoghurt pots that litter the floor. Ants crawl in and out of them. I’m getting like him, she thinks, trembling, disgusted. And I am just as much of a coward.

Ted comes home in the dawn. He unlocks his back door. As he goes in, she hears him calling, “Here, kitten.” His voice is relaxed and friendly. Dee makes a list of things to get. It will be difficult, her mind will fight her, but next time Ted goes to the forest she won’t fail.

OLIVIA

Lauren hasn’t been around the last few weeks. I think she’s on holiday with her mama ted or something? I don’t know, I tend to tune out when he talks about her. No pink bike sprawled in the living room like a dead cow, no notes on the whiteboard, no screaming, no mess. The quiet, the peace—my stars! It’s been great.

It’s good that Lauren’s not here because Ted has really been getting out there. Lauren hates it when he dates. She screams at him. My goodness, she is the most unpleasant little ted.

There’s been no sign or scent of the TV ted with the eyes like dead blue coins. I think I let my imagination get the better of me, there. I do have such a rich and wonderful imagination, it’s not surprising that it went a little too far.

Everything would be perfect if the whine would get out of my head. It’s like an object lodged there, like a tintack or a knife. EEEEoooeeee.

I think I feel calm enough to consult with the Bible again. I am a little nervous, after last time—the house shook so hard. It was so scary I haven’t dared since. But I can’t leave it much longer. The LORD would not like that. I have to be brave! Wish me luck, tape machine!