A Pocketful of Stars. Aisha Bushby

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СКАЧАТЬ smells are wild and sweet.

      Wood. Rose, maybe? And orange.

      I look up to see an enormous house staring back at me.

       Where am I?

      Silver branches scale the house walls, covering almost every inch of it. They bleed into the windows and out of the doors.

      They sway, like blades of grass in the breeze, and tap at the glass of the windows, as if asking to be let in. Except there is no wind. The night is as dry as lavender sprigs. Looking closer I can see the branches are as thick as a snake, with leaves like gnarled fingers protruding from them.

      They reach out for me, and that’s when I see they’re not swaying at all, but wriggling like little worms.

      I swear I can hear them whisper my name. ‘Safiya,’ they hiss. ‘Safiya, welcome.’

      I shudder, step back, and look around me.

      This is the biggest house I’ve ever seen, about the size of the block of flats Mum lives in.

      There’s a set of swings to the right of me, a couple of cars parked in front of it, and a great big iron gate to my left leading out on to the road.

       How did I get here?

      I try to think back to the last thing I was doing. But it’s as if the memory is just out of reach. My brain feels foggy, like I’ve just woken up. Moving around is strange too, like when I step I’m floating, instead of walking. I wave my hand in front of my face and I can see it blur a little.

      That’s when I remember what I was doing, and the realization comes crashing down like hailstones. I was sitting by Mum’s hospital bed. But then how did I get here? And where am I? I need to leave this place. I’m trespassing after all, I think, looking at the big iron gate.

      Once, when Elle and I were little, we snuck into her neighbour’s garden. It wasn’t exactly our fault.

      We were playing Frisbee and it flew into the vegetable patch next door. It started off with us jumping over the fence to go and get it, but then Elle turned to me.

      ‘It’s like being in The Secret Garden, isn’t it?’

      She was right. This wasn’t like any normal vegetable patch. It was huge, taller than both of us. We played hide-and-seek, and pretended we were Jack, climbing up the beanstalk into giant territory. Except a very real giant – or so we imagined at the time – in the form of Elle’s neighbour threatened to call the police when he saw us there.

      ‘I was just getting my Frisbee,’ Elle said sweetly.

      It worked, and we didn’t even get in trouble.

      Still, Elle’s not here right now, even though I wish she was.

      She would know what to do.

      I rush towards the gate and pull it open with a great big creak. But it’s almost as if something is trying to pull me back, like an elastic band stretching as far as it can go.

      And I swear I hear a voice whisper, ‘Come back, Safiya.’

      But when I turn round to see who spoke, no one’s there.

      I’m not sure what to do with myself once I’m away from the house. There are rows of equally giant houses to my left and right, a park across the street framed with palm trees, and a corner shop that sits on the other side of it.

      It seems to be open. Maybe I can ask them to tell me where I am. Maybe they can explain why it’s so hot, why there are trees I’ve never seen in England before, and why I keep hearing someone call my name.

      I don’t seem to have anything on me, even though I could swear my phone was in my pocket when I got to the hospital.

      I run across the street, eyes darting left and right, looking out for people and cars. But as my foot hits the pavement on the other side of the road, the corner shop starts to shake and crumble. The roof sinks in and the walls tumble down, down, down, like a sandcastle washed away by the ocean.

      The park turns to ash. Replacing it is a barren wasteland of sand for miles, mounds of it everywhere.

      I turn round, but the house has disappeared too.

      Before I have the chance to panic I hear another voice, a different one this time.

      ‘Visiting hours are over, love,’ someone says from a distance.

      

      I whip my head up. I had been sitting next to Mum’s hospital bed, my head resting just next to her right arm.

      ‘Sorry to wake you,’ the nurse, Amanda, adds. I try to make sense of my surroundings again. ‘I’ll give you five minutes,’ she says, before retreating behind the curtain.

      What a strange dream, I think as I try to reorient myself. It felt so real – like a hallucination, or something. Every time I blink it feels like I’m still in it, like my body and mind has been split into two. It was warm there, and I feel hot in my coat, even though it’s freezing outside.

      From the corner of my eye I see silver branches crawling up the wall and along the floor, reaching for me. I look down and see sand. But then I blink and I see the branches are only wires from Mum’s monitor, and the sand is the shine from the fluorescent lighting.

      I try to shake off my sense of panic, but it feels as if there are party poppers going off in my chest. I check my phone. It’s been twenty minutes since Elle texted me. How did so much happen in that time?

      A violent shiver passes through me as I make to leave, and suddenly I can feel the midwinter chill again. It’s like I’ve been dunked in ice-cold water. It slams against my chest and for a second I can’t breathe.

      I lean against the curtain rail next to Mum’s bed. My limbs feel tingly, like they’re not quite attached to me, and my head is swirling with the dream.

      Eventually, after I say goodbye to Mum, I make my way back to the reception desk, where I find Dad, and notice again the room with the old man in it. It feels like a lifetime since I first saw him. A young woman and two children surround him now. He’s chatting and smiling with her while they play with the settings on his bed. He has a pile of books on his bedside and a tartan blanket by his feet. They make the room look alive.

      I’ll bring some of Mum’s things next time, I think.

      When we get home I still feel a little strange. I wave my hand in front of my face and I swear it blurs, just like in the dream. It makes me wonder if I’m still asleep. I blink once, then twice, and hope that everything becomes normal again. But nothing’s normal any more, is it?

      I want so much to go back to last week, before everything went СКАЧАТЬ