I found a girl half-dead in my tree house and in under twenty-four hours that same girl had made a miraculous recovery, haunted an entire police department and myself with her mysteries and escaped a hospital whilst under police protection. These were the facts that surrounded the many uncertainties of Ivy whatshername.

Detective Martins decided not to interrogate me today, and it was a good thing too. If he had of, this statement is all I could give him and it didn't contain any valuable information.

I couldn't tell him the name Ivy gave me.

Katie Milner. The police have put their priorities on finding her which means they most likely will. If they do and I've given up that name, she'll surely find out and then she'll never talk to anyone ever again.

Especially me.

He drove me home and I kept expecting him to tell me when I would have to come back to the station or to drum up any information I might have that could help the case or even just to complain to me about this recent, stressful development. He did none of this, he drove me home in unsettling silence and I guessed he was probably as flustered as I was and didn't feel like beating a dead horse by talking to me.

It was six o'clock by the time I got inside, exactly twenty-four hours since I found Ivy. I slunk in through the door feeling mentally drained from the drama of the day. I was surprised to find mum wasn't in the kitchen as she'd usually be by now. There was no screaming from Daisy as there usually was when I came home and no complaining from Ewan about how I'm 'home five seconds and already causing a ruckus.' Sure, my life may be upside down right now but that doesn't mean everyone else's is.

I didn't want to be bombarded with any questions so a part of me was glad no one was home, the other part of me just felt irrepressibly lonely and confused. None of the detectives talked to me about what happened and no one was home for me to talk it all through with. I was trapped in a limbo full of unanswered questions and a fear of the mysteries that surrounded me, right outside my back door, in my own garden. I was trapped, unable to move forward, no one to console me.

A mad man could be running around Devon as we speak. A murderer in Cornwood Village, and Ivy who was already once a victim, could also be out there. Maybe this is all as much of a mystery to her as it is to us? Maybe we all have varying degrees of information- none of which form a coherent case. Maybe Ivy is just as lonely and confused as the rest of us are.

Maybe she was, but she'd asked me to help in a way. She'd asked for me to find some girl. I didn't want anyone to feel as lonely as I did now. I didn't want her to be trapped in her own headache, the least I could do was try and help.

The desire to help ached through me, it pounded in my head and nauseated my stomach. It mixed with my adrenaline, but I didn't give into it entirely. I knew that my efforts would be more therapeutic for me than likely helpful for her. They'd at least occupy my mind, make me feel useful, I didn't even know where she was to give her any information if I found it. I suppose trying wouldn't hurt though.

I didn't want to go into the back garden, things still feel weird and unsettled. I was pretty sure the place was haunted, either that or it was a bad omen. Logistically, I was at least seventy-five percent certain I wouldn't find another dead or dying chick in there but at this point I wasn't ruling anything out. The place is as soaked in eeriness now as it is blood. Thing is, my phone's in there so I don't really have a choice.

The sun was setting opposite my back door, the sky's painted with pinks and oranges, warmth radiated through the country scene making any normal person feel comforted. But I wasn't normal, and normal things hadn't happened here. This was still my back garden, a back garden that belongs to a house that exists too far away from any potential witnesses. Every shuffling leaf sounded like imminent danger, the glow of the sun blinded me, the fresh air tasted cold.

My eyes fixated on my old tree house, still laid there broken and destroyed. Even from the back door step I could see blotches of red painted across the strewn wood. My vision flickered over the rest of my garden, I was on edge, I was waiting for something that was never coming. I knew nothing would, maybe I was a wimp or maybe a part of me doubted logic. My toes were inching ahead of me, testing the waters whilst the rest of my body stayed behind.

I lurched forward, sprinting, jumping over abandoned bikes and fallen branches until I reached the tree house steps which I promptly hopped up.

It was like walking into a freezer, the air chilled me from the inside out. The sight froze me, it was like someone had taken three buckets of red ink and threw them all over the wooden floors. In the middle of the room, it was so thick that parts had gone black. The smell of rusty metal and mouldy air overpowered my senses and me retch.

It was horrifying. It was worse than I'd remembered. I wasn't ready to see this again. Feelings of vulnerability and disturbance clung to this place as stickily as the blood had. The more I thought about what happened here the less I understood it, but the more it traumatised me. Nothing made any sense anymore.

I cringed, I flinched away from the room, my eyes darted to the ground and stuck there, my lungs desperately tried to pull in air. Why was I so affected by this? I hadn't been the one dying, I was only a small part of this. I wasn't in any danger, right? Then why can't I shake this damned trepidation! People say kids these days are so desensitised to violence but if they saw me now they'd sure as hell retract that sentiment. Or maybe I am just a massive pussy.

My eyes flew around the floor of the room, searching for my phone so I could just leave and never have to come back here, but I couldn't bloody find it. I couldn't see anything, everything was a fucking mess! My lip was in pain again, my teeth were tearing into it of their own accord. I'd have screamed if they weren't clamped down so tightly.

I was glaring at the spot it should've been in, blaming it for making this whole ordeal harder than it had to be. There was a massive, blood soaked wooden plank near. I kicked it, no phone underneath, I kicked again and again and then I threw it so hard I was left with splinters. More blood. Still no phone.

My feet stomped around, they kicked debris around so hard I was sure I'd broken a toe. Still no phone. I couldn't scream, I could hardly even breath, so instead I ran back to the house. Or at least I tried running, the picturesque scene that made me feel nauseous was blurred and I tripped over the bikes.

Now I was crying for no reason, feeling ill for no reason. My head hurt, I was stressed, I was tired and I still didn't have a fucking phone. I ran inside and snatched the house phone. I held it but I couldn't do anything with it. I didn't want to phone my mum. I was useless again.

I stared at the numbers until finally my fingers moved across the buttons and I'd hit dial. Niamh picked up instantly.

"Charlie? Is that you? Where the bloody hell have you been!? Your mum came up to the school to speak to the vice principle and everything, all because you went missing, I know I told you to but c'mon! You've been gone for hours! Charlie- Charlie?" I hadn't spoken since Ivy'd went missing almost three hours ago. I still felt the tears running down my cheeks, I saw them drip off the end of my nose, I sniffed up whatever was trying to run out of my nostrils. I don't know if Niamh heard it or I was too silent for too long, "Fine, I'm on my way." The call dropped and I was left a dial tone that rang in my ears like tinnitus.

I couldn't move from my spot, I could only grip the phone tighter, then with both hands. I was tempted to throw it but I suppose some part of me knew my mum would fucking kill me if I did that. Or maybe a part of me believed I needed to endure the torture of the dial tone, either way, I couldn't even press that little red button to end the call on my end. Not until Niamh showed up and banged on my door so loudly it would've taken a lot more than a mental breakdown to ignore.

The first bang made me flinch so hard I dropped the phone, the next few agitated me into action. I grabbed a piece of kitchen roll and blew into it whilst walking towards the front door. Niamh, being her usual ever pleasant self, greeted me with a look of disgust. I didn't blame her, I didn't want to know what I looked like. I couldn't muster much politeness myself anyway but I didn't think she'd mind. I left the door open and walked straight up to my bedroom to collapse on my bed.

I was so tired, I don't think I've ever been this tired. When I was nine I went to a sleepover at Mike's house and he and his other friends wanted to pull an all-nighter. I was the first one asleep and I ended up walking home with a Hitler moustache and a penis on my face. Yep, even nine year old boys are assholes.

I remember walking home knowing how my mum was going to flip out, I remember feeling so embarrassed about that, I knew she'd ring Mike's mum immediately to give off and then at school no one would talk to me. I remember walking past the primary school where an after school all girl's football team were playing. They all saw me, screamed and ran away, not much has changed in almost ten years. I don't know what they were afraid of, some of them ran away laughing, most screaming as if I was some kind of creep. As if I intentionally drew the marks on my face. All of them ran away except one girl. Niamh. She just stood there smirking, her face was going red trying not to laugh at me, but she waved. A small sign of encouragement and for the first time that morning, I was able to laugh at myself.

When I stopped laughing Niamh was gone. In fact, all trace of sound was gone except for the breeze. I don't remember it being so dark before, it felt so light. For some reason I was still standing there, staring at the spot Niamh had been, where only shadows laid now. Shadows that turned into figures. A dark figure holding something, coming towards me, holding it towards me. It was autumn, I remember because all the leaves had changed colour and the breeze was so cold. I was standing there because I couldn't move, something was choking me and the dark figure was moving closer now, closer to the street lamp I was standing under. The light that made the red, autumn leaves look like blood-

I felt the left side of my torso contract in pain, my ribs ached loudly, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. My forehead banged against a wooden pole. I realised it was my bed post as I was left staring up at it in a daze. I was in my bedroom. I'd fallen asleep. It was hard to register what was happening, I was squinting through the pain in my head and clutching at my ribs but I could somewhat make out Niamh's concerned face hovering above me.

"Oof, sorry." I was so confused and in pain I just kept looking at her as if I was going to find the answers if I just kept staring, I must've made her uncomfortable because her face went red and she wouldn't look at me, she was becoming defensive. "I didn't think it'd hurt that much."

"Did you fucking kick me?" She went redder and crossed her arms, rolling her eyes and glaring at me. "You fucking kicked me!? Why!?"

"No! I... punched you. It's not my fault I thought I was helping, you were breathing weird! Like, I know you're a wheezy git when you're awake but it looked like you were having a fucking asthma attack or something-"

"I don't fucking have asthma! You fucking kicked me in the ribs for no reason-"

"Punched. You were asleep, and you have guests over." Arguing with Niamh was like arguing with a brick wall. I wasn't going to get anywhere with her. Even if she was guilty of karate chopping me to the ribs, I was never allowed to make her feel guilty. I couldn't if I wanted to. Pretty sure Niamh knew this as she looked considerably less defensive now, her hand had moved to her jutted out hip and she was suppressing a laugh. It made me fully consider what had just happened, I was dreaming of that incident when I was nine. Usually I'd have smiled back at Niamh letting her know there could never really be any hard feelings between us, but seeing her doing that exact same pose as I'd been dreaming was too sinister.

I felt that coldness again, like I was being haunted. Niamh's face lost all its humour and I realised I was grimacing from the tenseness of the muscles in my face. I tried to control my breathing. "You don't exactly count as a guest." She smiled and I saw the reassurance cross over her face, I wasn't really mad at her and she knew that. But there was still an edge to her, like she wasn't wholly convinced or something, like she was trying to figure me out.

"So whats up with you then? Still in a weird mood, I see. Your mum's been on the phone with me asking why you haven't even texted-"

"I don't have my phone." I cut her off. I was so sick of thinking about that damn phone. I expected Niamh to be annoyed I'd cut her off but instead her nose scrunched up at me in confusion.

"You should do, your mum told me she put it in your blazer pocket. She said she told you before you got ready for school." I paused for a second to look at her but she just looked back expectantly so I dived my hands into my pockets to look for it. I couldn't feel anything. I sprung to my feet, the pain in my side making me cringe a bit but I kept searching. I turned my pockets inside out, I took the blazer off and shook it but nothing dropped out. I kept doing it, flipping it in and out but again no sight of the phone.

"It's not here! I knew it wasn't, what's she talking about?" I looked over at the empty space Niamh had been before I spotted her searching through my computer opposite my bed. "What're you doing."

She spun round dramatically on my chair with a calm look of triumph, "Google. Find my phone. You're welcome." She spun off the chair dramatically and hopped onto the bed whilst I hobbled towards the computer screen. She'd typed in 'find my device' to google and sure enough google had responded. Right next to a google maps image was the information for my phone, it even included the type of WiFi it was connected to at the moment.

"How did you-" She didn't even look up as she answered.

"I know you connect all your devices together and so do I, and I lose my phone a lot. It's a lifesaver."

I scooted into the chair, clicked on the google maps image and immediately felt disheartened. "It doesn't work." I heard Niamh fly up beside me.

"What? Yes, it does. Look, there it is!" She pointed towards the phone icon that was slowly moving across a place near the village. I looked at the moving icon and back to her, not understanding how she wasn't seeing how this was clearly broken.

"The icon is moving. I left it in the tree house, mum put it in my blazer pocket, where the hell could it have gone?" As soon as the words left my mouth I realized there was a hundred possible answers to that question. I could have left it in mum's car (unlikely though as my mum's phone was also signed up to a few of my devices so I'd be able to track it as well), I could have left it in the Detective's (although why would he still be near the village?), it could have been stolen... Damn.

"It's probably been nicked. Bit shit." Niamh echoed my thoughts. I could have slammed my head against the wall, mum was going to kill me, no way I was getting a new one til Christmas. "Any idea who?"

No. I had absolutely no fucking clue who took it and where it would've been taken. I didn't even realise I'd had it! "I had it when I left the house. I must've had it through school, unless someone took it out of my pocket."

"Not really likely 'cause you didn't see Liam or Mike today and who else lives in fucking Cornwood."

"Well, we don't really know." I was pretty sure it was bound to be someone from school.

"What about at the hospital?" There was no one I could think of who could've taken it. I was standing most of the time. Maybe it fell out at the reception area? But then I would've seen it or felt it because I was there waiting so long. The only other place I sat was-

"For fucks sake." Ivy. Ivy had escaped the hospital. Most likely with my fucking phone. It must've fell out at some point and she'd swiped it, maybe that was the excuse she needed to bounce.

"What?" Niamh didn't know about any of it. She didn't know about the miraculous recovery or escape, she didn't know how deep this rabbit hole went. I could already guess how she'd respond.

This girl with a clear death wish is wandering somewhere near where she was fucking shot with my goddamn phone! Maybe I really was being haunted, I keep being dragged back into her mess. I should hand this in to the police, they'd find her and bring her back. I should hand this in and forget about it, be done with all this goddamn drama. The police can actually help this crazy bitch, maybe they'll even save my phone in the process.

"This day just gets crazier and crazier." Niamh was leaning over my shoulder, staring at me, still without a clue as to what was going on.

"What? You know who nicked it?" I didn't know if I should tell her. Maybe its classified information? That's a stupid thing to think, it's definitely classified information. I shouldn't tell Niamh anything, I should just go and report this to Detective Martins and be done with it. It's the responsible thing to do.

"I gotta tell you something and then I'm gonna need your help." It's the responsible thing to do, but I can't do it.