A Dangerous Game

I’ve played strange games since I met Lucy. Today, her feet left the ground and she was floating in the air. The light surrounding her seemed to go right through.

“Ye can do it too. Jump!” she laughed and I did. That’s why I have woken up on the beach, lightheaded and not quite right.

I run like a demented chicken towards home, where the door is open. My parents and Mr McAvoy are standing there. Mom is crying, Dad looks suddenly so old. There are drapes on the furniture, closed suitcases around them.

‘The poor wee girlie! I wish I could have prevented this!’ Mr McAvoy tells my parents.

‘What could you have done? It was an accident. She fell and we have to live with this for the rest of our lives. If we had never come here, if we had left her with my parents back in Edinburgh… I didn’t like the idea of her playing alone, pushing that empty swing and even inventing an imaginary friend. She felt lonely, this is all my fault…’ Dad sobs.

I am really puzzled when I say hello and they don’t reply. I shout but they still ignore me. It’s like they have gone deaf or I’m just invisible. Maybe, they are just punishing me for being late. I’ll ignore them too, see how long they can go on with this joke.

Mr McAvoy says goodbye to my parents and leaves. I follow him all the way to the other side of the lighthouse. He still ignores me as he stops by the stone. The daylight is almost gone but I can still read what’s carved on its flat surface.

“Lucy McAvoy, 21st June 1967 – 21st June 1979, beloved daughter and sister, taken away too early.”

‘You didn’t need her, Lucy? I told ye that it wouldn’t be long now, that I’d be with ye again soon…’ Mr McAvoy murmurs.

‘Ye got too old, Robbie! Ye can’t play anymore with me, brother…’ a voice replies, as I turn and spot Lucy, standing there, grinning at us.