Corey

The feeling of fear slid down Mark’s throat like a cold steal blade, as his step daughter tugged it from an old cardboard box where it had been buried under a stack of old fairytale books. That forgotten feeling of dread was suddenly back and it ran through his veins like poison turning his blood cold. He felt his forearms quiver with goose bumps and for a passing moment he thought he was going to drop down dead right there and then. He watched, his heart racing, his forehead leaking with beads of sweat as Nicole dusted its head and gave it a hug. She then turned to her mother, seeming almost to be turning in slow-motion letting it look at him and smile, Hello Marky, its been a long time - those creepy glass eyes seemed to say. “Mummy, mummy look what I found,” said Nicole excitedly as she tugged on Sam’s sweater sleeve. Sam was busy flicking through one of the many Joan Jonker paper backs that were stacked up on the stall table. “What’f ya found sweet heart?” asked Sam without looking up. “It’s a monkey mummy, look!” she held the limp rag doll up in her arms. Its head wearing its stitched on yellow hat lolled to the side, its mouth open showing the red felt inside, its brown glassy eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun. Its arms and legs, that were just rounded stubs at the ends dangled wanly from is pear shaped body. It had once been a vibrant brown colour but age had faded it slightly to a dull greyish brown colour. Sam looked briefly down at her daughter, an abrupt expression of disgust wrinkled across her face before she looked back at the book she was holding