Other hers visit them. He always seems to know when they're near before they arrive. He senses their presence.

They look down at him with anger in their hearts, radiating through their false smiles.

They hide their thoughts from Her.

They look into the After and see only darkness.

He meets another boy and a young—her—girl. They play together. They are friends. They ask him about his Mommy and he's forgotten about the first Her, only remembers Mommy and Aunt Norma. They have Mommies and Aunts too but they also have Daddies. Mommies and Daddies live together and make little brothers and sisters for them to play with.

They ask where his Daddy is. They ask why his Mommy is so old.

The other old ladies don't visit anymore. He's glad. They scared him but he can't remember why. They were always smiling and their smiles felt wrong.

—He's bigger now. It's winter and he's drawing in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He drew a monster with a funny hat. He wants to cut it out to put over his bed but he can't find the scissors in the kitchen drawers. He knows where Mommy keeps her scissors. He saw them one time when he was looking for string but she said never to touch them.

Mommy is in the bathroom. He sneaks into her room. Quietly opens the sewing cabinet. The scissors are shiny. They go snick! when he opens the blades. He closes the cabinet and reaches the stairs just as Mommy steps out of the bathroom.

Her face changes. He doesn't see it change. He senses it, shifting behind her skin. It's the first time he's sensed something in forever and it scares him.

Mommy is fury.

She is the Wicked Witch.

The evil old hag from fairy tales.

He runs, tripping and almost stumbling headfirst down the stairs, hearing her footfalls on the stairs above him as he hurries down. He hits the ground floor and grabs the bannister to swing himself around on his sock feet, and races toward the kitchen—

Aunt Norma is washing dishes. She looks up as Mommy screams.

He unlatches the basement door, tears it open and dashes down the steps without even turning on the light. He can't see a thing but he's been down here before. Knows where everything is by heart because this place haunts his dreams.

The low, raftered ceiling. The smell of damp concrete and earth. The cement floor littered with small stones and the shells of dead bugs. The furnace in the darkest corner with a face like a squat black goblin and a mouth full of hot fire.

He runs straight for it. The heat bakes his skin but she knows he's afraid of it. She won't look for him there.

Mommy thunders down the basement steps.

She calls out to him.

He tries not to breathe. It's so hot back here, the scissors scald his hand.

Mommy sees him through the dark.