Anne Hume

That girl’s still trying to peer at me. I put my hands over my eyes, covering them like a mask. The sun shines through, making the edges of my fingers pink-red. My blood. Still flowing. I can feel it vibrating through my veins. Thump, thump, skitter. My heart does its weird uneven throb, like a butterfly trying to escape every third or fourth beat.

Now I see Dylan. All untidy and dirty. When I reach out to him he fades into the wedge of sunlight filtering through the sides of the curtains. My lost boy. Disappearing back to Neverland like the boys in Hook. Nowhere Land. Anywhere Land. That’s just it. He could be anywhere. Foster home. Sleeping rough. Police cell. Prison maybe. Him in a cell and me in hospital.

Oh God, he looks so thin. Here again now but melting. Into shadows this time. I can hear him crying, that weird noise he makes deep in his chest. I’m following him into the darkness, dissolving, and as I go the sound of him gets muffled, fading into nothing. Till I’m nothing too.