The Collector

by KR Alexander

  She refused to talk to me the rest of the morning, and I had no idea why. Was it about the doll? About waking up in the middle of the night? Did she even remember? If it was, why wouldn’t she say so? There were plenty of moments when Mom wasn’t around. But she avoided me completely.

  It made me confused and sad, but I had other things to worry about now that we’d made it through the night and school was approaching.

  Like what I was going to say to Vanessa.

  And where the doll I had thrown out the window had gone. When I looked outside at breakfast, there was no porcelain dust on the sidewalk, no broken doll parts. The sidewalk was clean. It was like the doll never existed.

  What was going on?

  Even though Vanessa said she’d see me at school, even though she’d sounded okay on the phone, I didn’t quite believe it. I knew in my heart that she was being held captive, that Beryl would never let her go.

  Because what was the other option? That I’d made all of that up? The thought scared me more than the events last night had. What if I was becoming like Grandma? What if I couldn’t tell fantasy from reality anymore?

  Which was why, when I saw Vanessa waiting for me outside the school, I felt a rush of relief and dread. Now I would find out the truth.

  “Hey,” I said when I got close.

  “Hey.” She held up a bag of cookies. Chocolate chip. “I made these for you. As an apology.”

  I handed her her overnight bag. She exchanged it for the cookies.

  “I shouldn’t have run off like that,” she said. “I was a bad friend. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  I looked around. No one was listening in, but that didn’t keep me from lowering my voice. “I went to your house.”

  If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I might not have noticed her eyes going wide, right before she regained composure.

  “Why would you do that?”

  I didn’t want to tell her I was angry with Grandma, or that I’d been thinking of running away. “I was worried about you.”

  She looked at her feet.

  “I’m okay. But I appreciate how much you care.” She paused. “If you came to my house, why didn’t you knock?”

  I looked around again.

  “I heard something,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “I heard … I heard you crying. You were crying, and someone was talking to you. Someone scary. I thought maybe you were being held hostage.”

  She didn’t answer for a while. Kids walked past, talking and laughing and looking at us sideways, but I barely noticed them. It felt like everything in my world rested on her answer.

  “There was no one with me last night,” she finally said. “Just me and Aunt Tilda.” She chuckled and finally looked at me. “Really, Josie, you’re letting your imagination get the best of you.”

  Her smile said it was okay, that she thought it was funny. But I knew the look in her eyes.

  She was scared.

  Vanessa may have shown up to school that day, but after the first class I learned that someone else hadn’t.

  We were in history, and once more the principal came in.

  “Class,” she asked, “I’m afraid I am here to ask you, again, if any of you have seen one of your classmates. Charlie Bean did not show up for class today, even though his parents said he left their house. Have any of you heard from him?”

  The silence in the room was heavy.

  Principal Overton asked a few more questions, but no one had seen or heard from Charlie today, and Charlie hadn’t told anyone he’d be missing class.

  “Well,” she concluded, looking very sad, “I’m going to be calling your families this afternoon. We will have cops patrolling the school grounds, and until we have more information, all students will be required to get rides to and from school, either from their families or the bus. Don’t go anywhere alone, not until we have found Charlie and Karen. And please, report any strangers to an adult. We must watch out for each other right now.”

  It wasn’t until she left that I realized I’d been holding my breath.

  Last night, I’d heard Vanessa begging Beryl not to have her bring another. Now I knew what she meant.

  Beryl had wanted a child.

  And Vanessa had been forced to bring one to her.

  Vanessa wasn’t at lunch when I got there.

  I went to our usual table and sat down. In my distraction this morning, I hadn’t asked Mom to pack me a lunch, which meant a stale piece of pizza and pudding that was a solid lump. I didn’t think I could eat either of them—not just because they were gross, but because my stomach was all knotted up with fear.

  I had to confront Vanessa and demand the truth. Either she was being used by Beryl, or she had been lying to me the whole time.

  Honestly, I couldn’t figure out what was worse. Either my friend was in a lot of trouble, or she had never been my friend at all.

  By the time the final lunch bell rang, I realized Vanessa wasn’t coming. I left without eating. It felt like I was sleepwalking; I heard the people around me, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying, and even though I was moving, it felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. I knew that Vanessa wasn’t going to be in class when I got there, but it didn’t make it any less of a shock to learn I was right.

  I didn’t see her anywhere, and that just meant I had a lot of time to question and think. Not that my brain was working properly. I couldn’t put the pieces together—not in a way that made sense. I still had no idea who or what Beryl was, or how she was involved with Vanessa and her aunt. I didn’t know what was happening to the missing kids.

  I didn’t know why Beryl was apparently coming for me, or why she hadn’t gotten me yet.

  The rest of the day went by in a blur.

  Only one thing stood out, and that was the note that had been taped to the front of my locker.

  It didn’t help that, for some reason, I felt it was true.

  I tore it down and left it crumpled on the ground.

  As expected, Vanessa wasn’t waiting for me outside the school.

  Mom was.

  She stood by the flagpole and waved when I came out. I walked over, still dazed.

  “Hi?” I asked.

  “Hey, honey,” she said. “How was your day?”

  “Okay.”

  I wasn’t going to tell her the truth: Vanessa had run off and the monsters were real and Grandma had been right all along. I glanced around. The parking lot was filled with parents and guardians picking up their kids, and the line for buses seemed longer than usual. It was crowded. But I didn’t see Vanessa. Or my little sister. The realization made my chest constrict.

  “Where’s Anna?” I asked.

  “Already home,” Mom said. “I picked her up after lunch because she wasn’t feeling well. I don’t think she slept much last night.”

  She looked at me, as if expecting me to explain why. I kept my mouth shut.

  “Where’s Vanessa?” she asked when we reached the car.

  “Went home,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth.

  “Are you okay, honey?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Just tired.”

  “You girls. I don’t know why you keep each other up all night.”

  I wasn’t about to tell her that it wasn’t either of us—it was the monster in the woods. That last night Anna was almost taken, that we needed to bolt the windows shut to be safe. She already thought I couldn’t tell fantasy from reality. I didn’t need to make her think so even more.

  I just had to be more vigilant from now on. Until Grandma was better. Until she could keep us safe again.

  Mom told me to be quiet when I got home. Anna and Grandma were sleeping, which meant I was left to do my homework on my own.

  I considered calling Vanessa, but I knew that I wouldn’t get any answers that way. I felt trapped.

  So I did my homework up in my room. Or at least I tried to
do my homework. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Beryl was taking children and Vanessa might be helping her, and no one believed me. No one except Grandma, and no one believed her.

  Still …

  I left my homework on the floor and went in to talk to Grandma.

  I couldn’t tell if she was awake, but I couldn’t wait around any longer. The room smelled even more like sickness, and Grandma’s breathing was heavy.

  I sat down on a chair beside her bed and reached out to hold her hand.

  “Grandma?” I asked.

  She muttered something. I said her name again. She opened her eyes and turned to me.

  “Oh, Josie, it’s you. I was having such a terrible dream.”

  “We all have been,” I said. Actually, I didn’t know if that was true—had Mom been having nightmares, or just us kids and Grandma?

  “I’m so sorry,” Grandma said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m too tired to keep you safe.”

  I sighed. My heart started pounding again.

  “That’s why I’m here,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you. About Beryl.”

  That made Grandma go from dazed to alert. She pushed herself up in bed. Thankfully, though, she didn’t go into one of her episodes. Her eyes were perfectly clear when she looked at me.

  “What about Beryl?”

  “What is she?” I asked. “How do you know about her? And why is she after us?”

  Now it was Grandma’s turn to sigh.

  “Beryl used to be my friend,” Grandma replied sadly. “All those years ago. She and I and our friend Victoria were very close. We did everything together. But Beryl was always a little different. We knew the rumors—people thought Beryl’s mom was a witch. And so they thought Beryl was one, too. Little did we know, everyone was right.

  “It started with little things. Beryl would turn kids against each other on the playground. And then, when she got older, she got meaner. She loved dolls. And she was always jealous of our friend Victoria, because Victoria’s family was very rich and bought her everything she wanted. She had an amazing doll collection. Beryl wanted them for herself.

  “One night, we were having a sleepover at Victoria’s. Beryl asked to keep one of the dolls, but it was Victoria’s favorite, and she wouldn’t give it up. So Beryl put a spell on her, and turned her into a doll.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep, labored breath. It was like she hadn’t told this to anyone else before. And I couldn’t blame her—no one else would believe her.

  But I … I did.

  “I tried to get her to turn Victoria back, but Beryl refused. So I left, and I vowed to keep the town safe from Beryl’s evil magic. It took many years, and Beryl took many young children and turned them into dolls before I was powerful enough to stop her. But eventually I did, and she has been locked within the woods and her home ever since.

  “At least … until now. As I grow weak, she grows stronger.”

  I had to ask, “Is that why she’s after us? Is that why you sent Mom to another school?”

  Grandma Jeannie nodded sadly, tears streaming down her face.

  “I tried to protect you. I told your mother not to bring you two here, but she wouldn’t listen. I hoped my rules were enough to keep you safe.”

  “It’s okay, Grandma. We’re still safe.”

  “For now,” Grandma said. “But I can’t keep you safe forever.”

  I took her hand. I wanted to comfort her, but I also wanted someone to comfort me.

  “We’ll stay out of trouble,” I promised. “We know the rules.”

  “That won’t be enough. She’ll find you. She always finds you.”

  “Then how do we stop her?”

  Grandma looked at me long and hard.

  “Beryl keeps her magic close. If you can find the key to it, you can stop her. My magic wasn’t enough to keep you safe. I charmed this house to protect everyone from her clutches. It wasn’t enough, and I spent years practicing. I fear … I fear there is nothing you can do.”

  She started to moan, and I wanted to tell her it would be okay. But I knew that none of this would be okay.

  Something wasn’t clicking, though. What did Vanessa have to do with any of this? Had Beryl trapped her to do the witch’s dirty work? I had to act fast, before Grandma slipped away from me.

  “Grandma, my friend Vanessa—why did you yell at her?”

  “Because she isn’t Vanessa,” Grandma told me. Then she started muttering to herself, and I worried that I’d lost her.

  Until I heard what she was saying:

  “How is she back? How is she back? How is Victoria back?”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. No, I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing.

  Vanessa was actually Victoria? But how? Vanessa was my age. And if what Grandma said was true, Victoria was now a doll. A very old doll.

  There wasn’t a chance to ask any more, though—I knew if I stayed any longer, Grandma Jeannie would only get worse.

  “Get some rest, Grandma,” I said. “I’ll take care of this.”

  The only problem was, I had no idea how.

  I headed back to my room. I needed to formulate a plan. Some way to defeat Beryl and keep everyone safe. I needed a miracle.

  By dinnertime, the miracle hadn’t come.

  I’d spent what felt like hours writing out ideas, but without the internet or good books on witches nearby, I didn’t really have much to go on. I knew from movies that evil spirits hated salt. I also knew they preferred the nighttime, usually midnight. I didn’t know much about witches. Especially not ones who turned little kids into dolls. I mean, there were the witches in all the old stories—The Wizard of Oz, “Snow White,” “Hansel and Gretel”—but I didn’t have magic slippers and, even though Vanessa always had baked goods, I didn’t think Beryl would fit in the house’s tiny oven. I also didn’t think I could bring myself to hurt anyone, let alone cook them.

  When Mom called up to me that it was time for dinner, I realized I’d only been at work for less than an hour. I rubbed my eyes. My head already hurt from thinking so much. And I still hadn’t come up with any ideas. All I knew was, Beryl came out at night—and that meant tonight, we would be at the greatest risk.

  I walked past Anna’s room when I went to dinner, pressed my ear against her door. I didn’t hear anything in there, but that didn’t mean much. She might still be asleep. I hoped she was feeling better—if her dreams were anything like mine last night, I could imagine she hadn’t slept much.

  And, now that I knew there was dark magic at work, I felt bad about blaming the doll on her.

  Had it been a spy for Beryl? Was it another little girl locked in a doll’s body?

  “Anna?” I whispered.

  I felt I should apologize to her before dinner. I should try and show her that I was sorry by offering to bring her food or something. I had to protect her, and that meant she had to trust me again.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Anna?” I asked again, a little louder this time.

  Mom called from downstairs, “Josie! Dinner!” but I barely heard her. I was listening intently to Anna’s door. It was quiet. So quiet.

  I turned the handle and stepped inside.

  The curtains were drawn and the covers pulled up in a huddle. I crept in. Her room smelled exactly like Grandma’s, and that had me worried.

  “Anna?” I asked again. “How are you feeling? Do you need me to bring anything?”

  I stepped closer, letting the door click shut behind me. My heart pounded in my throat.

  Still, she didn’t answer.

  “Anna?”

  I reached her bed.

  Reached out my hand.

  Pulled back the cover.

  The doll stared back. The doll, the one that Vanessa had given her. The one I’d destroyed. Now its pieces were back together, with all the cracks showing. And it stared at me like it knew I was the one who’d brought it to harm.r />
  How had it gotten back together? How had it gotten back inside?

  On the doll was a folded note.

  I grabbed the note and unfolded it with shaking hands.

  I remembered what Vanessa had said, about Anna needing to wait to find a friend. I thought about how we’d never met Clara, and how Clara didn’t have any parents.

  Clara was working for Beryl, too.

  And she had stolen my sister.

  Dinner smelled amazing, but I barely paid it any attention as I raced down the steps and out the back door.

  Anna’s note was crumpled in my pocket, and Mom’s voice called out from behind me, but all I could focus on was the woods. The woods, and the witch who had stolen Anna away.

  Mom might have followed me. I wasn’t sure. I crashed through the trees and the twigs, stumbling and getting scratched, and it reminded me so much of my dream last night. Except there weren’t any dolls chasing me today. I was chasing the dolls.

  Time seemed to stretch and snap; it felt like I had been running for hours, but I knew that couldn’t be the case. Still, that didn’t explain why it got darker with every footstep, and why—in seemingly no time at all—the air around me was cold and windy, and the night sky heavy and clear and filled with a wicked moon.

  Magic. It had to be.

  It also had to be a sort of magic that propelled me forward, a magic that led me to the edge of the glade where Vanessa’s house rested. That magic cut out the moment my foot landed on the first broken concrete slab of her sidewalk.

  I stopped there, panting heavily, staring out at the house. Lights glowed inside and the moon hovered low overhead, but everything else was dark, dark shadow.

  I could hear my mother calling my name. But it was too late. I knew the same magic that drew me in would prevent her from finding me here.

  The yard was still overgrown like a nightmare, but the mannequins and the dolls were all gone. That made the hair on my neck stand on end.

  If the dolls weren’t there, where were they?

  I had a feeling I already knew.

  It was then that I realized how stupid this was. It was late—or it seemed late—and I was here alone, facing off against an evil monster-witch with an army of dolls at her disposal. And all I had on my side was me. Just little old me, with no magic and no clue how to save Anna. Or myself.