Wail of the Banshee
Read Wail of the Banshee Online
Authors: Tommy Donbavand
Contents
“AAAYYYOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
I woke with a start, my eyes snapping open. The noise was a cross between a scream and the siren of an ambulance – and it made my bones sting.
I lay still for a moment, blinking. My eyes itched, as though I’d been trying to win a staring contest. I had a headache, too. It was light outside, but I was lying on my bed, fully clothed. I must have fallen asleep doing my homework or someth—
I froze. This wasn’t my room. I was lying on my own bed, with my own duvet cover and pillows – but this wasn’t my room! Where was I?
My bedroom – my real bedroom – was small. The smallest room in the house, in fact. That’s why Mum always insisted I kept it tidy, as I only needed to leave a handful of games and a pair of trainers lying around and it was a mess. But this room was anything but small. Pale, flecked wallpaper covered walls that stretched up towards a distant ceiling – and there was enough room for my whole family to have moved their beds in here. It might help cover up the disgusting orange carpet, if they did.
I sat up and spotted what looked like a suit bag hanging over the end of the bed. It was purple, and had the initials G.H.O.U.L. printed on the back. I realized I was wearing a wristband in the same colour and with the same letters on it. What had happened to me? Had I been in some sort of accident? Was this a hospital?
No – don’t be stupid, I told myself. I know they keep saying on the news that hospitals are short of beds, but they don’t move your own bed with you to give you somewhere to sleep. And, even if they did, they wouldn’t have brought all my books and CDs as well. Plus, my pet iguana, Steve, was curled up asleep in his glass tank on my desk. They wouldn’t allow pets in a hospital, no matter how ill you were.
I was about to shout for my mum when it occurred to me that, wherever I was, she might not necessarily be here with me. Neither might my dad, or my sister, Susie. In fact, I had no idea what was waiting for me outside this unfamiliar room. Thankfully, I had a way of finding out without physically going out there.
I climbed out of bed and crossed over to the door. Then I closed my eyes and allowed the inner me to take another step forward. It felt like I was stepping out of a warm shower and into the cold air. I glanced back and saw my body standing rigid behind me – and there was the silver rope that connected me to it. Good – I was able to Walk in this strange place, just like normal.
With my next step I melted through the door. My dad once asked me what it feels like to pass through solid objects. I suppose it’s a bit like running against a strong wind for a split second – only the wind is made of wood or bricks.
I found myself on a long landing with several other doors leading off it, all of them covered in the same peeling paint as the one I had just Walked through. The carpet out here was no improvement on the orange disaster in my room: this place must have been decorated when green swirls were all the rage.
And there, along the wall, were the pictures my dad had painted of sailing ships – just like they would be on our own landing at home. Was this some kind of joke? I half expected a wacky TV presenter to jump out and say this was all a hidden-camera prank.
Wary of what I might find on the other side, I Walked through the next door along, making sure I only went as far as the rope would let me. It varies from Walk to Walk. Sometimes the rope stretches for as long as I want but, on other occasions, it stays short and I can’t move further than a few metres. Today, I was pleased to discover I had plenty of room to manoeuvre.
I found my parents lying on their bed, asleep. At least, I hoped they were asleep. “Mum! Dad!” I raced over and tried to wake them. But they were out cold. I almost pressed my hand to my dad’s chest to check if his heart was still beating – but quickly reminded myself how unpleasant it was to pass through another person and settled for checking their breathing instead. They were alive – and like me they were both wearing purple wristbands to match the suit bags at the end of the bed.
Susie was in the next room along, also deeply asleep. She wasn’t going to like the décor of her new room any more than I liked mine – seven-year-old girls can be pretty fussy when it comes to snot-green wallpaper. But, at least she was safe. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not that the inner me could actually sigh, of course. But it made me feel better.
“AAAYYYOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
There was that noise again! It made me jump and I spun round, almost catching the silver rope on the banisters. A moment of panic flashed through my mind but thankfully the rope wasn’t damaged. Slowly, I began to reel it back inside myself and Walked through my new bedroom door and into my body.
There was that usual moment of dizziness I get when I Rejoin. It’s like I’ve just woken up in the middle of a dream and for a few seconds I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not. But that quickly passed and I resolved to find out more about where I was and what was going on.
“AAAYYYOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!”
The noise seemed to be coming from outside, and I dashed to the window to peer round the curtains (yellow with green stripes!). The street outside was filled with weirdly shaped houses. Some had turrets and towers, while others were squat and covered with cobwebs. The lampposts were as tall and twisted as the trees they stood beside, and the pavements were old and cracked.
Then I saw some movement. There were people out there. Three kids of about my age, by the look of it. Maybe they could help me to wake up my family. I yanked open the door and ran down the stairs to ask them where on earth I was.
