Witch: A Horror Novel (The Cursed Manuscripts) by Iain Wright (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

He pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, then went downstairs. It was half-past ten, later than he usually woke up, but his mum hadn’t shouted up to him or tried to stir him – it was the summer holidays, after all. He found her in the kitchen, emptying the bin. Glass bottles clinked inside the black bag, and Jude wondered how much she’d drunk last night. Her bleary eyes and frizzy hair suggested too much.

Why does she do it to herself?

Jude and Ashley shared the odd bottle of cider now and then whenever they could convince an adult to get it for them, but truthfully he didn’t much enjoy the sensation of being drunk. In fact, the smell of cider alone was enough to make him queasy. The last time they drank cider, Ashley had ended the evening puking in the middle of a field. She’d been so miserable that she’d begged him to kill her. It was overly dramatic, but that was Ashley. Life was never boring with her as a best friend.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s your hand?”

Jude had forgotten about his palm, which was good in that it hadn’t caused him enough pain to notice. Now that he looked at it – and flexed it – it ached, but not too badly. He wondered what it looked like beneath the bandage. “It’s okay. Can I have some cereal?”

“Of course. You know where it is.”

Jude rolled his eyes and went over to the cupboard. “Yep, I know where it is.”

His mum took the black bag out to the bin cupboard while Jude made himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the table. As his mind woke up, he pictured the two dead children. He was certain it hadn’t been The Hobbit playing.

So what the hell happened? What the hell did I watch?

And then there’s the bath water. How did it turn so cold?

Jude’s mum came back into the kitchen and poured herself a coffee. Jude hated the stuff and only drank tea. She never offered to make him one, so he got up and made one for himself. Then he resumed eating.

His mum sat, sipping at her coffee. “You look tired,” she said. “Didn’t sleep well?”

Jude dropped his spoon in the bowl and shrugged. “Not really. I was a bit freaked out after everything that happened.”

“I can imagine. Have you thought any more about what happened? Perhaps it would be better to have a different story ready when the police come back.”

The recollection of hearing his mother talking about him on the phone last night came back and hurt him all over again. She didn’t believe him, and even thought he needed professional help.

“Like what, Mum? What should I tell him? That I’m crazy?”

She leant in her chair and frowned at him. “Of course not! But maybe you should say you didn’t actually see the woman. That it was Ashley who did, and that she just convinced you.”

Jude examined his mum’s face, trying to work out if she was kidding. She’d known Ashley for ten years. “Are you for real? I would never stab Ashley in the back. She’s my best friend. Jesus, Mum.”

She put her hands up as if she meant no offence. “Okay, okay! Look, I understand she’s your friend, but she’s also a very troubled young girl. Hardly surprising with that dad of hers.”

“What does that mean? What’s wrong with her dad?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything. All I’m saying, sweetheart, is that you have a brain in your head – you can make something of your life – so don’t let anybody else drag you down by involving you in their problems.”

Jude let his head hang and went back to eating his cereal. After what he’d heard his mum say about him last night, he was in no mood to listen to her advice. Ashley was his best friend and had always been on his side – one down, two down. What they saw yesterday had been real. His mum might be right about telling another story to the police, but it was something he needed to talk to Ashley about first. If they changed their statements, they needed to change them together.

Jude stood up. “I’m going out. I’ll be back later.”

His mum nodded. She never objected to him going out, and she never told him when to be back. He appreciated it most times, but this morning he wondered if she even cared.

“Uh, one moment, you,” she said. “Clean your bowl first.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jude snatched his bowl and took it over to the sink. Whenever he was over at Ashley’s, her mum waited on her hand and foot, but he was lucky if he ever got a hot meal. Sometimes, he wanted to yell at his mum to do better. But he never did.

Jude cleaned up his cereal bowl and headed out into the bright sun of a cloudless morning. After a stuffy and sleepless night, it was nice to be outside, breathing fresh air. The sound of birds, and distant cars on the carriageway, made his problems seem smaller. The old man who lived across the road was cleaning his old blue Rover. He waved when he saw Jude. Jude waved back.

Focus on the little things. Focus on the moment.

He went to pluck at his bracelet.

Damn. I dropped it at the farmhouse. The police have it. Wonder if they’ll give it back to me.

Jude left his close and headed where he always did – to Ashley’s house. She lived on a nicer road than him. Her house had a garage and driveway, which was useful because both of her parents actually drove. His mum had never even taken lessons.

Dad drove, though.

The memories of his father had faded, the pages of a book left in the sun, but he remembered a small red car. He remembered days at the zoo and supermarket trips. Then… the memories just stopped involving his dad. There