Something in the Walls

by Daisy Pearce

“I was wondering, Stevie, do you know what all the funny-looking stones are for? The ones hanging outside the houses?” “Hagstones.” She sniffs noisily and wipes her nose on her sleeve leaving a silvery trail of snot. “To keep the witches out. Witches can hurt you.”

“She watches me through the cracks in the bricks. She’s in there now. That’s why we can’t talk about this.”

“You didn’t ask me.” “Ask you what?” “How it feels.” “How what feels, Alice?” “When dead people start talking to me. You didn’t ask me what it feels like.” My mouth floods with the taste of hot metal. Fear, polluting me. “What does it feel like?” I ask her quietly and she looks right at me. “Like biting into ice,” she says.

“Because you can’t predict what fear will do to people. You don’t know which way it will send ’em. Some people don’t have the stomach for it and it drives them mad.”

maybe hope is just desperation dressed up in fancy clothes

Desperation makes you inventive, Mina. I just think it’s important you know that.”