Into the Gloaming

Carnivore!

I tried asking her again and again, I tried yelling at her, being nice to her, pleading with her, but she just kept her mouth shut and shook her head, not looking me in the eye.

I sulked in my chair for a little while. I tried to look grumpy but it made my face ache after a while. My eyebrows started twitching. Sarah wasn't looking anyway. I stared at her, trying to bore into her head with my thoughts like the psychiatrist guy tried to do to me the day before.

I read heaps and heaps of awful magazines to make my brain be quiet; it kept flashing pictures of my Mum and potential causes of death at me. It's always chattering away about things, and sometimes I just want it to be quiet. Like when I'm trying to go to sleep and I just can't stop thinking about things and it seems like my thoughts are really loud. I hate it when I can't sleep. What I hate most is that I know I'm going to wake up in the morning and think "oh, it wasn't so bad" even though while I was lying there awake it was like torture.

"Sarah!?!" my Dads strangled cry came from somewhere beyond the corridor. I heard a door crash open. "I'm going to need your assistance for a minute!" he shouted, more clearly now. I could hear Mrs. Donahue still crying. I couldn't believe someone could cry for so long without dying from dehydration.

Sarah jumped out from behind the desk and ran into the corridor with a little jar of pills. They looked like tic tacs. I suddenly realized I was starving hungry, I wondered what time it was. There were no clocks on the walls, and I didn't have a watch. I don't like wearing watches because I can never remember which hand they go on. I think it might be different for boys and girls. Or maybe it's different for left handed people and right handed people. If anyone ever asks me why I don't have a watch I'm going to tell them I'm ambidextrous. I once tried to teach my left hand how to be ambidextrous, but I ended up teaching my right hand to write backwards, which is pretty useful for writing secrets, unless someone who shouldn't be reading them has a mirror handy.

I sat for a few more minutes and decided to go out to the car and get my bag and play the game with the floating rings. I listened in case Sarah was going to come out of the corridor any time soon, and then ran to the car like a ninja. Luckily I'd accidentally left the front passenger door open, because usually I sit in the back and I always forget to do the funny handle thing with the front door that makes sure it's locked. I wriggled through to the back and grabbed my bag and then nearly had a heart attack when something moved near my feet. I couldn't turn around to look because I was in such an awkward position, my front half in the back of the car and my back half on the front seat, I managed to wiggle out backwards to get a glimpse of something with sleek grey fur disappearing into Dad's work. Carnivore! He must have snuck into the car that morning at home! Dad was going to lose it! I ran after him, into the waiting room, flinging my bag onto the ground.

"Carnivore!" I hissed "Where are you, you stupid cat, you're going to get us in so much trouble!" I wanted to kick myself for not trying harder at learning how to speak Cat that morning. I couldn't see Carnivore anywhere. I dropped onto my hands and knees and looked under the chairs, I crawled over to Sarah's reception desk and he wasn't there. He must have gone into the corridor. I crept through the doorway, and just stood for a second, overwhelmed with a feeling of being very very forbidden. There was a dim hall that disappeared into blackness with doors dotted along the walls. I could hear Dad muttering low and fast to Sarah from behind one of them, I pressed my ear to the door.

"...if he had just told her in the right way. Who was his counsellor? They ought to be fired, how many times have I stressed the importance of telling the loved ones at the right time in the right way? It. Is. Imperative! What can we do about Mrs. Donahue? I can't have her going to the press, or the police. When she comes round I'll do my best, but Sarah, I'm not a miracle worker, we may have to bump his appointment up and give them the old two-for-one. Do they have kids?"

I wanted to know what was going on, but I had to find Carnivore, so I continued on down the corridor. Then I spotted him, scratching at a door. I ran over to him and snatched him up from the ground but he was writhing around and I couldn't keep hold of him, something in the room behind the door was driving him crazy. I eased it open just a crack, keeping a tight hold on Carnivore and peered in, it was a big circular room, the floor sloped down into the centre of the circle where there was a drain, and there was something red seeping into it. That must have been what Carnivore could smell, blood drives him crazy. There were lots of other tiny doors around the edges of the room, and another big door on the other side. The ceiling was a dark dome and there were all sorts of gadgets and gizmos lurking around. I wasn't sure if I should be scared or curious or if I should go in and look around or get back to the waiting room.

Then I heard a faint "Hello?" coming from the waiting room, if Sarah or Dad heard it they would know the waiting room was empty and that I had snuck off so I ran back out there with Carnivore in my arms.