Say Her Name by James Dawson Read Free Book Online Page B

end of the corridor, heading towards the staircase. ‘Hey! Did you pick up my glasses?’ she called after what she assumed was another student.
    The girl didn’t stop. She headed further into the shadows. Her head was down, her stance hunched. She moved almost like she was sleepwalking.
    ‘Excuse me! Those were my glasses!’
    If this was some lame joke, Bobbie really didn’t have the patience. She was an Upper now; she was meant to torment the Lowers, not the other way around. ‘Can you come back please? It’s not funny.’ Bobbie took off down the corridor after the girl. Her feet slapped against the freezing floor.
    The girl seemed to be heading into Austen House at the far end of the corridor. Bobbie stopped and frowned. Instead of heading right across the landing, the other girl pivoted and headed down the stairs. Perhaps this wasn’t just Austen versus Brontë rivalry. Nonetheless, Bobbie wanted her glasses back. Without them, everything was a disorienting blur, as if a dense fog had crept into the school halls. She followed the girl.
    Bobbie reached the top of the stairs just in time to see a head of dark hair, almost ebony in this light, slip around the bend at the foot of the staircase. ‘Oh, come off it!’ Bobbie hurried after her, taking the steps two at a time. This was the ‘Accy Area’: a break-out space with some sofas, a TV and a table tennis set. The girl was nowhere to be seen. It was way too late for hide and seek. What’s more, with no other pupils milling about like ants and all the lights off, it didn’t look like her familiar old school any more. With long, strange shadows stretching across the floor, it almost felt like the walls were leaning in towards her. Bobbie dug her nails into her palms. When she swallowed, her throat was tight.
    There was another stairwell leading down to the reception and main exit and further black corridors to the left and right. The space smelled heavily of the cabbage they’d had earlier. Above her she heard faint laughter – some girls in Brontë getting ready for bed. ‘Hello?’
    Bobbie crossed the Accy Area to the top of the next staircase. Sure enough, the girl was already silhouetted in the milky moonlight flooding the main entrance. The intricate leading in the glass panels cast shadows over the floor: curling, twisting vines and leaves. She just stood in the centre of them, facing the door, back to Bobbie. That was weird. Bobbie paused on the first step down. The other girl was wet … in fact she was dripping onto the tiles, a black puddle glistening like an oil slick about her feet. She was fully clothed, but soaking wet. ‘Hey,’ Bobbie asked. ‘Are you okay?’
    There was a crash and a squeal from the floor above and Bobbie whipped her head around, almost tumbling down the stairs in shock. With sweaty palms she gripped the banister. ‘Give it back, you bitch!’ some girl screeched, followed by shrill laughter. When Bobbie turned back to the stairs, the curious girl was no longer by the front doors. Bobbie frowned. How could she have moved so fast? Bobbie warily descended the remaining stairs to the hallway. Okay, weirder still. The floor wasn’t even wet. Bobbie stooped down and ran a finger over the floor: dusty and bone dry. She’d
seen
that girl dripping all over the tiles. Or had she? Her eyesight really was dreadful without her glasses.
    There was a sinking sensation in Bobbie’s gut – the kind you get when a lift drops too quickly. The hallway was freezing cold, much colder than the stairs. Her skin prickled and she had a powerful urge to get far, far away from this place. Perhaps she should look for her glasses tomorrow morning …
    Bobbie flinched, startled. The girl was silently waiting at the end of the corridor beyond the reception desk – towards the nurse’s station and the Head’s office. Just waiting. Bobbie tried to focus, but it was futile – she could hardly see beyond her hands. ‘Look, ha ha, very funny, but