School was terrible today. I was constantly alert, giving a jolt of terror or whirling around so fast that I would bump into someone at the slightest noise. My eyes widened and I would start to tremble and squeak if I caught sight of something which resembled the dreaded Furby.
"Hueman! What is the matter with you today?" Mrs Jacobs barked. "Stop looking around and jumping like a damn rabbit hiding from a fox and pay attention!"
I felt like I was a rabbit hiding from a fox but I didn't dare argue of course. Not if I wanted a detention.
I was half glad, half terrified of meeting Roumbus. And yes, I'm going to call it by its name because it's easier.
I shout "I'm ba-ack!" to mum, gran and grandpa, before quickly darting to my room. The minute I get to my room the handwritten furby instruction sheet falls out of my school bag. I take a nervous look at Roumbus, his devilish eyes fixed on me. I pick up the instructions and read it.
If your furby screams then it is hungry. To feed it you must insert a finger into its mouth until it gives a hiccup.
I actually let out a snigger. Put my finger into that beak-like mouth? No freaking way!
As if on cue, Roumbus starts screaming a terrible scream like a man being tortured. Immediately unfamiliar horrible graphic images fill my head. A man tortured. Red hot pokers were pressed to his skin, toenails were being yanked off with tweezers. Body stretched until the man's limbs were almost pulled from his sockets.
I cry out, thumping my head with a pillow, trying to get rid of the horrible thoughts but they keep going, the man's face twisted in pain as his arms were twisted into grotesque positions and fingers being smashed with slabs of rock.
My knees weaken and I turn to see the furby still screaming, It's eyes seemingly glinting in enjoyment.
I have to put my finger in its mouth to stop it, I realise.
I crawl to the furby, mind still flashing and insert a shaky finger into the plastic beak. The screams stop and so do the images. The Furby's mouth shuts on my finger and I kneel down, wheezing, one hand placed firmly on my eyes as if to stop the thoughts entering through my eyes into my head, even though the pictures had stopped. I was in such a shock, I barely realised that my finger being clamped tighter and tighter into the Furby's mouth.
"Let... let go! Let go! Stop!" I try to prise the plastic beak-like mouth apart to free my finger but it remains shut and I give a loud sob and shake my finger vigorously, the furby dangling at the end, its hold getting tighter and tighter and the I cry out.
The world spins and everything goes black.