The Stuff of Nightmares

by Malorie Blackman

  But there was nothing.

  I was nowhere.

  Had I died in the train crash, after all? Was that it? Had I died and gone to Hell? If this was Hell, it’d been selected by someone who knew me better than I knew myself. Real Hell for me wouldn’t be a fiery pit inhabited by the Devil and his demons. What I was going through now, living through now, dying through now … this was Hell. Hell was spending the rest of eternity totally, completely, utterly alone. Loneliness was silence and solitude and isolation. But mostly silence.

  Just under a fortnight later I was back at home. I’d travelled as far south as I could before realizing that it didn’t matter how far I went or how fast, I’d never meet up with anyone else. Death’s words kept haunting me.

  ‘Let’s take a look at your worst nightmare …’

  Well, now we both knew. When I finally made it back home, I immediately went up to Mum and Dad’s room and sat on their bed. I couldn’t even smell Mum in the room any more. I went into the bathroom, stripped off and had the world’s longest shower. For all I knew, the world’s only shower. I listened intently to the sound of the water playing over my skin and running down the plughole. For the first time since I was a little child, I gave in to what I was feeling and let out the tears that had often threatened. Unfamiliar tears burned my eyes and spilled down my cheeks to get lost in the shower water running over my face. I tried to choke back the accompanying sobs, but my body wouldn’t let me. The next thing I knew, I was crying like a baby. Sobbing and heaving like someone who’d forgotten how to cry and was having to learn all over again. Furious with myself, I punched the shower wall, then again, and again, until I didn’t even have the energy to stand. I sat down on the shower floor, drawing up my legs as the water cascaded all over my body. Only when the water ran stone cold did I attempt to move. Slowly turning it off, I stepped out and grabbed the largest towel off the towel rail. Trying to scrub some warmth back into my icy skin, I became lost in my own thoughts.

  I had plenty of food and drink so there was no danger of starving. But what I yearned for was something far more unexpected.

  I wanted someone to touch me. Just touch me. To feel someone’s hand on my hand, my face, my arm, and have them tell me that everything would be OK, that I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t prepared to spend the rest of my life like this. There was only one thing left to do. I put on clean jeans and a gleaming white T-shirt. I was ready.

  I walked out of my house and carefully shut the door behind me. Standing in the middle of the empty road, I stretched out my arms.

  ‘Where are you, Rachel?’ I called out. ‘I know you’re close. Are you watching me and having a good laugh? Well, come and get me then. I’m ready now.’

  The words slipped away from me like ripples moving out from the centre of a pond. I spun round. The road was still empty.

  ‘Come on! What’re you waiting for?’

  I knew she was near by. I could sense her, stalking me like a predator. She was watching, waiting to see what I’d do next. I sat down in the middle of the road, cross-legged. I wasn’t going anywhere. I had nowhere to go. So I’d sit for as long as was necessary and wait for Rachel. I closed my eyes – I didn’t need to watch her approach.

  My thoughts took flight and flew off in all directions. I didn’t try to catch them, I just followed as best I could. Despair pecked away at me from the inside out. I thought of the train and my friends’ nightmares – and Dad. Where was he? He’d deserted me, just like everyone else. Like Mum and all my friends and … and …

  ‘Kyle, I love you. And I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll always be with you …’

  That’s what Dad had said. But he’d lied. Where was he then? Where was he …?

  ‘I’ll always be with you …’

  I still remembered the way he’d said that, the earnest, honest expression on his face as he spoke. Maybe he’d had no choice but to abandon me.

  Or maybe he hadn’t abandoned me at all … My eyes flew open. Dad …

  Oh my … I’d been wrong. All this time I’d got it so wrong. I wasn’t alone. Dad was with me. He’d always been with me. I’d just been looking for him in the wrong place, that’s all. He wasn’t somewhere outside of me, some place I might never find. He was inside my head and inside my heart. And now that I was seeking him in the right place, I could feel him there. I could feel him. Mum was there too, and all my friends and all the people from the train carriage. Everyone I’d ever met, they were all with me if I wanted them to be. And I did.

  So how could I ever be alone? It was just impossible.

  I smiled, the first sincere, genuine smile I’d managed since I found myself off the train and in this place.

  ‘Come and get me, Rachel,’ I whispered, the smile still on my face.

  It was time to stop running.

  ‘You’ve lost, Rachel …’ I said. Now I wanted to see her coming. She didn’t scare me any more. ‘Even if you swoop down and take me with you, you’ve still lost.’

  I stood up, no longer afraid. Dad had taught me that. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, to breathe in the fresh air, to breathe in life and love and hope. No matter what Rachel said or did now, I knew I would never be alone again.

  When I opened my eyes I was back on the train. I blinked like a stunned owl, turning my head this way and that. I still remembered the train, but time had blurred all the little details. I had to take them in again.

  The helicopter was still hovering above us. The sound of banging and metal hitting metal came from somewhere outside. I looked up and down the carriage. I was still the only one on my feet, but I was back – as if I’d never been away. I’d been gone for weeks and it’d all lasted how long? A second? A minute? Maybe two? A thumping noise started up from inside the train, not in our carriage but close. I started towards it. Lily rose unsteadily to her feet as I approached.

  ‘Someone’s knocking,’ she said.

  ‘I heard it too.’

  ‘What is it? I’m scared.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I replied. I was in no rush to meet Death again, but I was no longer afraid of her. And it was the truth. Here and now, at this precise moment, I was as far from being scared as I could get. I’d seen my dad and he loved me. Mum had come back home when Dad died because she loved me too. Funny, I’d never thought of it that way before. I’d put her return down to guilt or having no choice – but she did have a choice and she had chosen to come back and be with me. My relationship with Mum wasn’t perfect, not even close, but it’d be better now if … when I got off the train.

  ‘I think … I think someone’s trying to get into this carriage,’ I said to Lily.

  Both she and I made our way to the end of the carriage. The door between the carriages was now horizontal instead of vertical and there was an upturned seat partially blocking the way. The banging came again.

  ‘Hello?’ I called out uncertainly.

  ‘Hello in there. Thank goodness!’ a man’s voice called out. ‘We’re from the fire service. We’ve got paramedics with us but we can’t get through. There’s something barring the way.’

  Relief like angel’s wings lifted me up and danced me around. The fire service and paramedics had reached our carriage. Well, almost!

  ‘Just a minute,’ I called back.

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Lily.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good—’

  ‘I can help,’ she insisted, interrupting me.

  I decided not to argue.

  Lily and I grabbed hold of the seat and tried to heave it out of the way. It took a couple of minutes to shift it sufficiently to clear the door, but we did it. The gap wasn’t very big but surely it was big enough for someone to get through and help us make it wider. Quiet discussions were going on in the other carriage. I heard a woman’s voice, soft but emphatic. I bent down for a better listen, but just then a woman’s face appeared in the gap between the carriages. She started to crawl though the narrow space. She wore an orange paramedic’s uniform
, which snagged once or twice on bits of twisted metal or jagged glass as she crawled though the horizontal space in the door where the window used to be.

  Once she got to her feet, the woman smiled at me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ‘I’m Sarah. I’ll be here until everyone’s out of this carriage. But first let’s try to clear some more space.’

  Between us, me, Lily and Sarah managed to move more of the debris away from the carriage door.

  ‘Try now,’ Sarah called out.

  A fire-fighter tried to crawl through the same space as her but, being bigger, was finding it tougher going. I squatted down to help him.

  Sarah turned to Lily. ‘Are you OK?’

  Lily nodded, perspiration clinging to her forehead and under her lip. The fire-fighter finally managed to squeeze through with me pulling on his arms.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, rubbing at his hip. ‘I’ll work on getting the door open from this side.’

  ‘I’ll go and see who needs me,’ said Sarah, already heading down the carriage.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ The fire-fighter smiled. ‘There are cranes being attached to this carriage and the one ahead as we speak.’

  That explained the noises outside.

  ‘Are we … am I dreaming this?’ I couldn’t help asking.

  Cranes and paramedics and the emergency services. Were we really going to be rescued? Was it really over?

  ‘What’s your name?’ the man asked.

  ‘Kyle.’

  ‘Well, Kyle, this is real. You’ll soon be out of here. It must’ve been a nightmare when the train was hit but you’re safe. The nightmare is over.’

  His words made me start. Was the nightmare really over? It was for me, but what about everyone else? What about all the things I’d seen? Were they real? Should I warn my friends? Should I warn Lily? I was going to try. Even if none of them believed me, I had to try. And if I told them and they wouldn’t – or couldn’t – believe me, then I’d write it all down. Every action, every word. I’d write it down so I’d have a permanent record.

  ‘How bad are the injuries in this carriage?’ the fire-fighter asked. ‘D’you know?’

  ‘Some people are badly injured, some are still unconscious – but we all survived,’ I replied.

  And we had survived.

  We were all going to make it.

  Lily turned to me and smiled. ‘Today is a good day, don’t you think?’

  But I didn’t have to think; I knew.

  Today was the best day ever, because it was the start of the rest of my life.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a mobile on you?’ I asked the firefighter. ‘I want to phone my mum.’

  Author’s Note

  The vast majority of the thirteen nightmares described in this novel were inspired by real nightmares I’ve had over the years. Looking back I can now see what real-life events created or ‘inspired’ my bad dreams. Some of those events were less than pleasant and the nightmares they produced were always terrifying to me, but writing down my nightmares has always been my way of trying to deal with them and take control of them. A few of the nightmares featured in this book have been previously published as short stories in anthologies but all of them have been completely rewritten to work within the context of this novel.

  About the Author

  MALORIE BLACKMAN is acknowledged as one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. Noughts & Crosses has won several prizes, including the Children’s Book Award. Malorie is also the only author to have won the Young Telegraph/Gimme 5 Award twice with Hacker and Thief! Her work has appeared on screen, with Pig-Heart Boy, which was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal, being adapted into a BAFTA-award-winning TV serial. Malorie has also written a number of titles for younger readers.

  In 2005, Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her distinguished contribution to the world of children’s books.

  In 2008, she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature.

  www.malorieblackman.co.uk

  By Malorie Blackman and published by Doubleday/Corgi Books:

  The Noughts & Crosses sequence

  Noughts & Crosses

  Knife Edge

  Checkmate

  Double Cross

  Boys Don’t Cry

  The Stuff of Nightmares

  A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.

  Dangerous Reality

  Dead Gorgeous

  Hacker

  Pig-Heart Boy

  The Deadly Dare Mysteries

  Thief!

  Unheard Voices

  (An anthology of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)

  For junior readers, published by Corgi Yearling Books:

  Cloud Busting

  Operation Gadgetman!

  Whizziwig and Whizziwig Returns

  For beginner readers, published by Corgi Pups/Young Corgi Books:

  Jack Sweettooth

  Snow Dog

  Space Race

  The Monster Crisp-Guzzler

  Audio editions available on CDs:

  Noughts & Crosses

  Knife Edge

  Checkmate

  Double Cross

  THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES

  AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 9781407047065

  Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,

  an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK

  A Random House Group Company

  This ebook edition published 2008

  Text copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 2008

  First published in Great Britain by Doubleday, 2007

  ‘Steve’s Nightmare’, ‘Naima’s Nightmare’ and ‘Roberta’s Nightmare’ previously published as ‘Dad, Can I Come Home’, ‘Skin Tones’ and ‘Such are the Times’ in Not So Stupid by Livewire Books for Teenagers, 1990.

  ‘Joe’s Nightmare’ previously published as ‘Jon For Short’ in Incredibly Creepy Stories, collected by Tony Bradman, Doubleday, 1996.

  ‘Perry’s Nightmare’ and ‘Elena’s Nightmare’ previously published as ‘Behind the Mask’ and ‘Deeply’ in Words Last Forever, Mammoth, 1998.

  The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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