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Carl was unwell. Not physically unwell, he looked fit and healthy, but mentally, he was anything but that.
Carl had been in his parent’s basement for 12 years, since he was 10. He could stay in his basement as long as he liked, they said, his parents didn’t mind at all.
But Carl didn’t like the basement anymore. His heater had started to tell him things, and how could Carl not trust his warm glowing companion? Carl had been told that his parents were going to kill him, put poison in his food. This was a week ago, and Carl had eaten nothing but a copy of the Yellow Pages since then. He had hidden his food so his parents didn’t find out, burnt it on his bed. Carl liked to burn things, but it made his bed smell funny, and it wasn’t as comfortable anymore.
Carl hated his bed. He spat on it, a filthy dust-spotted greenie, which had become crusty over time. Carl liked them when they were crusty, he could pick them off, and he liked the crunch in his mouth. It reminded him of better times, when he was younger and had a sister.
Jane and Carl used to play together in the garden. He used to pretend to be a pirate, and chase Jane through the flowers. When he’d chased her away he could dig holes, and bury his treasure, then she would come find it. Carl remembered the time he was digging and he found the skeleton of a bird. Carl buried this instead of the treasure, then went inside and grabbed one of Dad’s toffees, even though he would be mad if he found out.
Carl used to like toffees.
When Jane was looking for the treasure Carl watched, and giggled as she got closer. When Carl giggled he liked to put his hand in his pants, it felt funny. Mum used to tell him off for this, so he checked she wasn’t looking.
Jane screamed.
Carl didn’t understand,
“You found the treasure!” he said.
“You’re sick” replied Jane, storming off as the tears welled up in her eyes.
Carl went to look at his treasure. The bird skeleton was great, you could see where everything was, Carl held it in his hands, and spoke to it.
“Hello birdie”
Carl didn’t see the boot coming.
Carl’s dad often got angry with him, but Carl didn’t know why, Mum said he was a good boy, her special little boy.
“Don’t upset your sister!” said Dad, his face red.
Carl lay on the floor, and roared, with his mouth open.
“You’ve had my toffee’s again, haven’t you? Haven’t you?” Shouted Dad. His face was getting redder, and it was twisted in rage.
“No” moaned Carl, wailing.
“I can see it in your mouth, you dirty little thief. You stay out here, you’re not getting any tea. Get out of my sight before I belt you”
Carl moaned, and ran off around the corner of the shed, with Birdie still in his hand. He sobbed for quite some time, stroking Birdie’s skull as he did so.
Carl was getting hungry. He could smell Mum’s cooking, but he wasn’t allowed any. He looked down at Birdie. Birdie was dead, he wouldn’t mind, so Carl put one of the bones in his mouth. It didn’t taste of anything, but it did crunch, and Carl liked this.
Jane didn’t play with him anymore after that day, put Carl still used to dig, and look for things that would crunch.
Carl heard a knock at the door.
“Dinner”
It was Mum, back with more poison.
He climbed the stairs and opened the door. Mum was gone, but his food had been left for him. It smelt so good. Carl just wanted to grabbed the mashed potato in his hand, and shove it into his face, he wanted to lick the gravy from the plate, he wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of a sausage, but then he remember the heaters smiling face.
“They’ve poisoned your food, don’t eat it, don’t trust them.”
He took his food back down the stairs, and lay the tray upon his bed. He looked at the food again, then back at the heater.
“The food is trying to tell you something Carl”
Carl looked once more at the plate, there was something he had to do, to allow it to talk. He put the sausages on the floor, and stamped on them. They split out of their skins. Carl laughed.
“No Carl, that’s not it, keep looking” He heard the heater say.
Carl put his hand in the mashed potato, and smoothed it down around the plate. Gravy trickled off the side and onto his bed. Carl thrust his finger into the potato, and put in two holes, for eyes. He picked up one of the burst and squashed sausages from the floor, and placed it to make a face on the plate.
“They know you haven’t been eating, or you’d be dead by now” said the face on the plate. “You have to get out of here, before they find another way to get rid of you.”
“Yes Carl, he’s right.” Said the heater, with all two bars glowing.
“I’ll run” said Carl, looking from the plate to the heater.
“Yes, get away” said the plate
“No!” All three bars were glowing on the heater now. “They’ll come after you. You have to make sure that they cannot ever get at you. Tonight go into the kitchen”
“No, Dad will see me” moaned Carl, putting his hand up to his head.
“Do it when they sleep” said the plate
“Yes, when they sleep. Take money from the drawer, then turn the knobs on the cooker, all of them, then go, it’s the only way, it’s your only chance.” As the heater finished it’s speech all three bars died. Carl felt cold.
Night came, and Carl was ready. Slowly he made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step, and turning the door handle with caution.
He looked around the hall. It had been so long since he was allowed up here, since the time he had knocked Jane down and she had stopped moving. Things looked different. Carl moved into the kitchen, everything had changed. Carl looked through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, an envelope stuffed with money. If Carl could count he would have seen £65 in there. Hardly a fortune, but to someone that hadn’t had money before, he thought it was.
“Now turn the cooker on!”
Carl looked around. Who was talking to him now? It sounded like his buddy the heater, but he was too far from him.
“Over here!” called the voice again.
Carl spotted a wooden spoon sticking out of a pot. This is what was speaking to him.
“Take me with you, I’ll help you!” said the spoon.
Carl picked it up, and laughed. Then he turned his attention towards the cooker. He turned the knobs that the spoon told him to.
Carl began to sniff. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s the poison your parents tried to kill you with ,you have to get out!”
Carl headed for the door. He turned the latch, and pulled at the door. It bounced back out of his hands.
“The chain, take off the chain” said the spoon.
Carl fumbled with it for a few seconds, then was able to get it off, and make his way out into the night.
He breathed in heavily. The fresh air tasted good
“Keep going” urged the spoon.
So Carl headed out of the garden, further than he had been allowed to go as a child.
“Sit there, on that bench, and wait”
Carl sat, and drifted off into sleep. Whilst he slept he dreamt of the heater, sat there, alone in the basement. The heater had been his friend for so long, how could he just abandon it?
“Don’t worry, I’m here with you.”
Carl looked at the spoon again.
“I’ve changed, Carl. I couldn’t let you go without me. I’ll always be with you. You could leave this spoon behind, and I'd still be there with you, always”
Carl chuckled. He was glad to have his friend with him.
“What now?” Asked Carl
“Now we wait to watch what happens when your Dad turns the light on, then I say we head out on an adventure, to find some treasure!”
“Hooray, treasure, lets go now!”
“No Carl, first we wait. First, we wait”
As the explosion woke up many of the local residents Carl’s face lit up.
“Can we be pirates now?”
“Yes”
“And have adventures”
“Yes, lots of adventures”
So Carl walked away, smiling as the fire engines passed him by.
Carl had been in his parent’s basement for 12 years, since he was 10. He could stay in his basement as long as he liked, they said, his parents didn’t mind at all.
But Carl didn’t like the basement anymore. His heater had started to tell him things, and how could Carl not trust his warm glowing companion? Carl had been told that his parents were going to kill him, put poison in his food. This was a week ago, and Carl had eaten nothing but a copy of the Yellow Pages since then. He had hidden his food so his parents didn’t find out, burnt it on his bed. Carl liked to burn things, but it made his bed smell funny, and it wasn’t as comfortable anymore.
Carl hated his bed. He spat on it, a filthy dust-spotted greenie, which had become crusty over time. Carl liked them when they were crusty, he could pick them off, and he liked the crunch in his mouth. It reminded him of better times, when he was younger and had a sister.
Jane and Carl used to play together in the garden. He used to pretend to be a pirate, and chase Jane through the flowers. When he’d chased her away he could dig holes, and bury his treasure, then she would come find it. Carl remembered the time he was digging and he found the skeleton of a bird. Carl buried this instead of the treasure, then went inside and grabbed one of Dad’s toffees, even though he would be mad if he found out.
Carl used to like toffees.
When Jane was looking for the treasure Carl watched, and giggled as she got closer. When Carl giggled he liked to put his hand in his pants, it felt funny. Mum used to tell him off for this, so he checked she wasn’t looking.
Jane screamed.
Carl didn’t understand,
“You found the treasure!” he said.
“You’re sick” replied Jane, storming off as the tears welled up in her eyes.
Carl went to look at his treasure. The bird skeleton was great, you could see where everything was, Carl held it in his hands, and spoke to it.
“Hello birdie”
Carl didn’t see the boot coming.
Carl’s dad often got angry with him, but Carl didn’t know why, Mum said he was a good boy, her special little boy.
“Don’t upset your sister!” said Dad, his face red.
Carl lay on the floor, and roared, with his mouth open.
“You’ve had my toffee’s again, haven’t you? Haven’t you?” Shouted Dad. His face was getting redder, and it was twisted in rage.
“No” moaned Carl, wailing.
“I can see it in your mouth, you dirty little thief. You stay out here, you’re not getting any tea. Get out of my sight before I belt you”
Carl moaned, and ran off around the corner of the shed, with Birdie still in his hand. He sobbed for quite some time, stroking Birdie’s skull as he did so.
Carl was getting hungry. He could smell Mum’s cooking, but he wasn’t allowed any. He looked down at Birdie. Birdie was dead, he wouldn’t mind, so Carl put one of the bones in his mouth. It didn’t taste of anything, but it did crunch, and Carl liked this.
Jane didn’t play with him anymore after that day, put Carl still used to dig, and look for things that would crunch.
Carl heard a knock at the door.
“Dinner”
It was Mum, back with more poison.
He climbed the stairs and opened the door. Mum was gone, but his food had been left for him. It smelt so good. Carl just wanted to grabbed the mashed potato in his hand, and shove it into his face, he wanted to lick the gravy from the plate, he wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of a sausage, but then he remember the heaters smiling face.
“They’ve poisoned your food, don’t eat it, don’t trust them.”
He took his food back down the stairs, and lay the tray upon his bed. He looked at the food again, then back at the heater.
“The food is trying to tell you something Carl”
Carl looked once more at the plate, there was something he had to do, to allow it to talk. He put the sausages on the floor, and stamped on them. They split out of their skins. Carl laughed.
“No Carl, that’s not it, keep looking” He heard the heater say.
Carl put his hand in the mashed potato, and smoothed it down around the plate. Gravy trickled off the side and onto his bed. Carl thrust his finger into the potato, and put in two holes, for eyes. He picked up one of the burst and squashed sausages from the floor, and placed it to make a face on the plate.
“They know you haven’t been eating, or you’d be dead by now” said the face on the plate. “You have to get out of here, before they find another way to get rid of you.”
“Yes Carl, he’s right.” Said the heater, with all two bars glowing.
“I’ll run” said Carl, looking from the plate to the heater.
“Yes, get away” said the plate
“No!” All three bars were glowing on the heater now. “They’ll come after you. You have to make sure that they cannot ever get at you. Tonight go into the kitchen”
“No, Dad will see me” moaned Carl, putting his hand up to his head.
“Do it when they sleep” said the plate
“Yes, when they sleep. Take money from the drawer, then turn the knobs on the cooker, all of them, then go, it’s the only way, it’s your only chance.” As the heater finished it’s speech all three bars died. Carl felt cold.
Night came, and Carl was ready. Slowly he made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step, and turning the door handle with caution.
He looked around the hall. It had been so long since he was allowed up here, since the time he had knocked Jane down and she had stopped moving. Things looked different. Carl moved into the kitchen, everything had changed. Carl looked through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, an envelope stuffed with money. If Carl could count he would have seen £65 in there. Hardly a fortune, but to someone that hadn’t had money before, he thought it was.
“Now turn the cooker on!”
Carl looked around. Who was talking to him now? It sounded like his buddy the heater, but he was too far from him.
“Over here!” called the voice again.
Carl spotted a wooden spoon sticking out of a pot. This is what was speaking to him.
“Take me with you, I’ll help you!” said the spoon.
Carl picked it up, and laughed. Then he turned his attention towards the cooker. He turned the knobs that the spoon told him to.
Carl began to sniff. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s the poison your parents tried to kill you with ,you have to get out!”
Carl headed for the door. He turned the latch, and pulled at the door. It bounced back out of his hands.
“The chain, take off the chain” said the spoon.
Carl fumbled with it for a few seconds, then was able to get it off, and make his way out into the night.
He breathed in heavily. The fresh air tasted good
“Keep going” urged the spoon.
So Carl headed out of the garden, further than he had been allowed to go as a child.
“Sit there, on that bench, and wait”
Carl sat, and drifted off into sleep. Whilst he slept he dreamt of the heater, sat there, alone in the basement. The heater had been his friend for so long, how could he just abandon it?
“Don’t worry, I’m here with you.”
Carl looked at the spoon again.
“I’ve changed, Carl. I couldn’t let you go without me. I’ll always be with you. You could leave this spoon behind, and I'd still be there with you, always”
Carl chuckled. He was glad to have his friend with him.
“What now?” Asked Carl
“Now we wait to watch what happens when your Dad turns the light on, then I say we head out on an adventure, to find some treasure!”
“Hooray, treasure, lets go now!”
“No Carl, first we wait. First, we wait”
As the explosion woke up many of the local residents Carl’s face lit up.
“Can we be pirates now?”
“Yes”
“And have adventures”
“Yes, lots of adventures”
So Carl walked away, smiling as the fire engines passed him by.
Page:
Amazing. I enjoyed that a lot.
Lovely stuff.
I would paste an even more disturbing story someone I know wrote, but I'd be utterly, utterly banned on bad taste grounds.
This was nice :O]
This was nice :O]
Im not always self assured, perhaps i should get myself one of those heaters.
When you were talking about him stroking the dead bird, all i could imagine was that blind kid with the dead budgie in Dumb and Dumber.
Pretty birdy.
When you were talking about him stroking the dead bird, all i could imagine was that blind kid with the dead budgie in Dumb and Dumber.
Pretty birdy.
"What are you doing, man? That's Carl"
"There's a lot of talk about Lenny"
"Oh no! Not Lenny. NOT LENNY"
Ha
"There's a lot of talk about Lenny"
"Oh no! Not Lenny. NOT LENNY"
Ha
I don't like stories like that
Holy sh*t! That s**tory gives me the creeps. Excellently written, though quite dis**turbing.
Carl was unwell. Not physically unwell, he looked fit and healthy, but mentally, he was anything but that.
Carl had been in his parent’s basement for 12 years, since he was 10. He could stay in his basement as long as he liked, they said, his parents didn’t mind at all.
But Carl didn’t like the basement anymore. His heater had started to tell him things, and how could Carl not trust his warm glowing companion? Carl had been told that his parents were going to kill him, put poison in his food. This was a week ago, and Carl had eaten nothing but a copy of the Yellow Pages since then. He had hidden his food so his parents didn’t find out, burnt it on his bed. Carl liked to burn things, but it made his bed smell funny, and it wasn’t as comfortable anymore.
Carl hated his bed. He spat on it, a filthy dust-spotted greenie, which had become crusty over time. Carl liked them when they were crusty, he could pick them off, and he liked the crunch in his mouth. It reminded him of better times, when he was younger and had a sister.
Jane and Carl used to play together in the garden. He used to pretend to be a pirate, and chase Jane through the flowers. When he’d chased her away he could dig holes, and bury his treasure, then she would come find it. Carl remembered the time he was digging and he found the skeleton of a bird. Carl buried this instead of the treasure, then went inside and grabbed one of Dad’s toffees, even though he would be mad if he found out.
Carl used to like toffees.
When Jane was looking for the treasure Carl watched, and giggled as she got closer. When Carl giggled he liked to put his hand in his pants, it felt funny. Mum used to tell him off for this, so he checked she wasn’t looking.
Jane screamed.
Carl didn’t understand,
“You found the treasure!” he said.
“You’re sick” replied Jane, storming off as the tears welled up in her eyes.
Carl went to look at his treasure. The bird skeleton was great, you could see where everything was, Carl held it in his hands, and spoke to it.
“Hello birdie”
Carl didn’t see the boot coming.
Carl’s dad often got angry with him, but Carl didn’t know why, Mum said he was a good boy, her special little boy.
“Don’t upset your sister!” said Dad, his face red.
Carl lay on the floor, and roared, with his mouth open.
“You’ve had my toffee’s again, haven’t you? Haven’t you?” Shouted Dad. His face was getting redder, and it was twisted in rage.
“No” moaned Carl, wailing.
“I can see it in your mouth, you dirty little thief. You stay out here, you’re not getting any tea. Get out of my sight before I belt you”
Carl moaned, and ran off around the corner of the shed, with Birdie still in his hand. He sobbed for quite some time, stroking Birdie’s skull as he did so.
Carl was getting hungry. He could smell Mum’s cooking, but he wasn’t allowed any. He looked down at Birdie. Birdie was dead, he wouldn’t mind, so Carl put one of the bones in his mouth. It didn’t taste of anything, but it did crunch, and Carl liked this.
Jane didn’t play with him anymore after that day, put Carl still used to dig, and look for things that would crunch.
Carl heard a knock at the door.
“Dinner”
It was Mum, back with more poison.
He climbed the stairs and opened the door. Mum was gone, but his food had been left for him. It smelt so good. Carl just wanted to grabbed the mashed potato in his hand, and shove it into his face, he wanted to lick the gravy from the plate, he wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of a sausage, but then he remember the heaters smiling face.
“They’ve poisoned your food, don’t eat it, don’t trust them.”
He took his food back down the stairs, and lay the tray upon his bed. He looked at the food again, then back at the heater.
“The food is trying to tell you something Carl”
Carl looked once more at the plate, there was something he had to do, to allow it to talk. He put the sausages on the floor, and stamped on them. They split out of their skins. Carl laughed.
“No Carl, that’s not it, keep looking” He heard the heater say.
Carl put his hand in the mashed potato, and smoothed it down around the plate. Gravy trickled off the side and onto his bed. Carl thrust his finger into the potato, and put in two holes, for eyes. He picked up one of the burst and squashed sausages from the floor, and placed it to make a face on the plate.
“They know you haven’t been eating, or you’d be dead by now” said the face on the plate. “You have to get out of here, before they find another way to get rid of you.”
“Yes Carl, he’s right.” Said the heater, with all two bars glowing.
“I’ll run” said Carl, looking from the plate to the heater.
“Yes, get away” said the plate
“No!” All three bars were glowing on the heater now. “They’ll come after you. You have to make sure that they cannot ever get at you. Tonight go into the kitchen”
“No, Dad will see me” moaned Carl, putting his hand up to his head.
“Do it when they sleep” said the plate
“Yes, when they sleep. Take money from the drawer, then turn the knobs on the cooker, all of them, then go, it’s the only way, it’s your only chance.” As the heater finished it’s speech all three bars died. Carl felt cold.
Night came, and Carl was ready. Slowly he made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step, and turning the door handle with caution.
He looked around the hall. It had been so long since he was allowed up here, since the time he had knocked Jane down and she had stopped moving. Things looked different. Carl moved into the kitchen, everything had changed. Carl looked through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, an envelope stuffed with money. If Carl could count he would have seen £65 in there. Hardly a fortune, but to someone that hadn’t had money before, he thought it was.
“Now turn the cooker on!”
Carl looked around. Who was talking to him now? It sounded like his buddy the heater, but he was too far from him.
“Over here!” called the voice again.
Carl spotted a wooden spoon sticking out of a pot. This is what was speaking to him.
“Take me with you, I’ll help you!” said the spoon.
Carl picked it up, and laughed. Then he turned his attention towards the cooker. He turned the knobs that the spoon told him to.
Carl began to sniff. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s the poison your parents tried to kill you with ,you have to get out!”
Carl headed for the door. He turned the latch, and pulled at the door. It bounced back out of his hands.
“The chain, take off the chain” said the spoon.
Carl fumbled with it for a few seconds, then was able to get it off, and make his way out into the night.
He breathed in heavily. The fresh air tasted good
“Keep going” urged the spoon.
So Carl headed out of the garden, further than he had been allowed to go as a child.
“Sit there, on that bench, and wait”
Carl sat, and drifted off into sleep. Whilst he slept he dreamt of the heater, sat there, alone in the basement. The heater had been his friend for so long, how could he just abandon it?
“Don’t worry, I’m here with you.”
Carl looked at the spoon again.
“I’ve changed, Carl. I couldn’t let you go without me. I’ll always be with you. You could leave this spoon behind, and I'd still be there with you, always”
Carl chuckled. He was glad to have his friend with him.
“What now?” Asked Carl
“Now we wait to watch what happens when your Dad turns the light on, then I say we head out on an adventure, to find some treasure!”
“Hooray, treasure, lets go now!”
“No Carl, first we wait. First, we wait”
As the explosion woke up many of the local residents Carl’s face lit up.
“Can we be pirates now?”
“Yes”
“And have adventures”
“Yes, lots of adventures”
So Carl walked away, smiling as the fire engines passed him by.
Carl had been in his parent’s basement for 12 years, since he was 10. He could stay in his basement as long as he liked, they said, his parents didn’t mind at all.
But Carl didn’t like the basement anymore. His heater had started to tell him things, and how could Carl not trust his warm glowing companion? Carl had been told that his parents were going to kill him, put poison in his food. This was a week ago, and Carl had eaten nothing but a copy of the Yellow Pages since then. He had hidden his food so his parents didn’t find out, burnt it on his bed. Carl liked to burn things, but it made his bed smell funny, and it wasn’t as comfortable anymore.
Carl hated his bed. He spat on it, a filthy dust-spotted greenie, which had become crusty over time. Carl liked them when they were crusty, he could pick them off, and he liked the crunch in his mouth. It reminded him of better times, when he was younger and had a sister.
Jane and Carl used to play together in the garden. He used to pretend to be a pirate, and chase Jane through the flowers. When he’d chased her away he could dig holes, and bury his treasure, then she would come find it. Carl remembered the time he was digging and he found the skeleton of a bird. Carl buried this instead of the treasure, then went inside and grabbed one of Dad’s toffees, even though he would be mad if he found out.
Carl used to like toffees.
When Jane was looking for the treasure Carl watched, and giggled as she got closer. When Carl giggled he liked to put his hand in his pants, it felt funny. Mum used to tell him off for this, so he checked she wasn’t looking.
Jane screamed.
Carl didn’t understand,
“You found the treasure!” he said.
“You’re sick” replied Jane, storming off as the tears welled up in her eyes.
Carl went to look at his treasure. The bird skeleton was great, you could see where everything was, Carl held it in his hands, and spoke to it.
“Hello birdie”
Carl didn’t see the boot coming.
Carl’s dad often got angry with him, but Carl didn’t know why, Mum said he was a good boy, her special little boy.
“Don’t upset your sister!” said Dad, his face red.
Carl lay on the floor, and roared, with his mouth open.
“You’ve had my toffee’s again, haven’t you? Haven’t you?” Shouted Dad. His face was getting redder, and it was twisted in rage.
“No” moaned Carl, wailing.
“I can see it in your mouth, you dirty little thief. You stay out here, you’re not getting any tea. Get out of my sight before I belt you”
Carl moaned, and ran off around the corner of the shed, with Birdie still in his hand. He sobbed for quite some time, stroking Birdie’s skull as he did so.
Carl was getting hungry. He could smell Mum’s cooking, but he wasn’t allowed any. He looked down at Birdie. Birdie was dead, he wouldn’t mind, so Carl put one of the bones in his mouth. It didn’t taste of anything, but it did crunch, and Carl liked this.
Jane didn’t play with him anymore after that day, put Carl still used to dig, and look for things that would crunch.
Carl heard a knock at the door.
“Dinner”
It was Mum, back with more poison.
He climbed the stairs and opened the door. Mum was gone, but his food had been left for him. It smelt so good. Carl just wanted to grabbed the mashed potato in his hand, and shove it into his face, he wanted to lick the gravy from the plate, he wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of a sausage, but then he remember the heaters smiling face.
“They’ve poisoned your food, don’t eat it, don’t trust them.”
He took his food back down the stairs, and lay the tray upon his bed. He looked at the food again, then back at the heater.
“The food is trying to tell you something Carl”
Carl looked once more at the plate, there was something he had to do, to allow it to talk. He put the sausages on the floor, and stamped on them. They split out of their skins. Carl laughed.
“No Carl, that’s not it, keep looking” He heard the heater say.
Carl put his hand in the mashed potato, and smoothed it down around the plate. Gravy trickled off the side and onto his bed. Carl thrust his finger into the potato, and put in two holes, for eyes. He picked up one of the burst and squashed sausages from the floor, and placed it to make a face on the plate.
“They know you haven’t been eating, or you’d be dead by now” said the face on the plate. “You have to get out of here, before they find another way to get rid of you.”
“Yes Carl, he’s right.” Said the heater, with all two bars glowing.
“I’ll run” said Carl, looking from the plate to the heater.
“Yes, get away” said the plate
“No!” All three bars were glowing on the heater now. “They’ll come after you. You have to make sure that they cannot ever get at you. Tonight go into the kitchen”
“No, Dad will see me” moaned Carl, putting his hand up to his head.
“Do it when they sleep” said the plate
“Yes, when they sleep. Take money from the drawer, then turn the knobs on the cooker, all of them, then go, it’s the only way, it’s your only chance.” As the heater finished it’s speech all three bars died. Carl felt cold.
Night came, and Carl was ready. Slowly he made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step, and turning the door handle with caution.
He looked around the hall. It had been so long since he was allowed up here, since the time he had knocked Jane down and she had stopped moving. Things looked different. Carl moved into the kitchen, everything had changed. Carl looked through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, an envelope stuffed with money. If Carl could count he would have seen £65 in there. Hardly a fortune, but to someone that hadn’t had money before, he thought it was.
“Now turn the cooker on!”
Carl looked around. Who was talking to him now? It sounded like his buddy the heater, but he was too far from him.
“Over here!” called the voice again.
Carl spotted a wooden spoon sticking out of a pot. This is what was speaking to him.
“Take me with you, I’ll help you!” said the spoon.
Carl picked it up, and laughed. Then he turned his attention towards the cooker. He turned the knobs that the spoon told him to.
Carl began to sniff. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s the poison your parents tried to kill you with ,you have to get out!”
Carl headed for the door. He turned the latch, and pulled at the door. It bounced back out of his hands.
“The chain, take off the chain” said the spoon.
Carl fumbled with it for a few seconds, then was able to get it off, and make his way out into the night.
He breathed in heavily. The fresh air tasted good
“Keep going” urged the spoon.
So Carl headed out of the garden, further than he had been allowed to go as a child.
“Sit there, on that bench, and wait”
Carl sat, and drifted off into sleep. Whilst he slept he dreamt of the heater, sat there, alone in the basement. The heater had been his friend for so long, how could he just abandon it?
“Don’t worry, I’m here with you.”
Carl looked at the spoon again.
“I’ve changed, Carl. I couldn’t let you go without me. I’ll always be with you. You could leave this spoon behind, and I'd still be there with you, always”
Carl chuckled. He was glad to have his friend with him.
“What now?” Asked Carl
“Now we wait to watch what happens when your Dad turns the light on, then I say we head out on an adventure, to find some treasure!”
“Hooray, treasure, lets go now!”
“No Carl, first we wait. First, we wait”
As the explosion woke up many of the local residents Carl’s face lit up.
“Can we be pirates now?”
“Yes”
“And have adventures”
“Yes, lots of adventures”
So Carl walked away, smiling as the fire engines passed him by.
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