Ten – part 19.

‘Happy Christmas.’ I don’t bother to look up. I don’t move much now. Even going to the toilet seems too much effort. I live in a world that exists between this one and the next. Floating. Waiting. A parcel is dropped next to me. I don’t even open my eyes. I’ve stopped eating. It just seemed the natural thing to do.

‘I need to talk to you.’ The Bearded Man must be standing right next to me. ‘Look at me.’

I don’t.

I feel the knife on my finger and roll over. My hair, matted and wrapped round the top of my arm almost blinds me. I try and swipe it away but it’s too much effort. I can see through it a little. I look at him.

‘You’re doing well. Better than most,’ he says. ‘Not quite the record. Not quite though. But that’s better than most. Better than most. But you aren’t going to be the one. Good as you are you’ve given in. You might surprise me but I doubt it. You’re not eating and that means your weight is all wrong. Time to move on I think. New blood.’

He kicks at the dirt looking down at the muck around me. ‘Sorry it had to be you but one doesn’t get the girl if one doesn’t step up to the mark so onward and upward.’

Next to the parcel he places a small scrunched up ball of silver foil. ‘They’ll help. If you want them to.’

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