Around the Bend: Not Like Cynthia

"It might have been a dog," Cynthia's Mum said. "We just don't know. One moment she was playing in the park with the other children, and the next thing she was screaming. Her whole left foot had been severed. There was a lot of blood on the grass, too. There was no sign of the foot anywhere. One of the children ran to ring for the ambulance, but Cynthia was nearly dead when it arrived. They had to give her a lot of blood.

I tried to smile at Cynthia. I tried to be nice to her. Really! Part of me actually felt sorry for her. But I was also much more jealous - she was getting even more attention now. She had flowers, and cards, and fruit. And someone had given her one of those porcelain dolls that look so real. I've always wanted one of those, but who gets the doll? Cynthia! I was angry, and jealous, and I hated her even more.

Then Cynthia woke up enough to talk to us. She looked so happy and peaceful, and she wasn't a bit resentful about losing her foot. She gave her Mum and Dad a kiss and they held her hands and talked to her for a while. My Mum and I gave her a card then we left her there, with all the presents, and attention, and smiles ... and I was fuming inside.

When I got home I went straight to my bedroom. There was only one thing on my mind, though you never suspected how bad I was, or how much hate there was inside me! I was a bit surprised too, to tell the truth. I am such a good actor. All these years you thought I was a sweet little girl, your darling Melissa. You never knew how horrible I was. Now that I knew that the biscuit worked, I wanted to eat more of it. I sat on the bed for a while and looked at it. What bit of Cynthia would I destroy next?

It was a tough decision. If I started at the head, her brain would disappear, so the rest of her would die. That would be too quick. I could eat her arms and legs? No, that would be too much all at once. Maybe a toe a day? Yes. That might be a nice, slow way to get rid of her.

I sucked at her other foot. The toes were so small I accidentally took them all off at once. Oh well, too late now. I swallowed the foot and put the biscuit back into its bag.

About an hour later we got a ring from the hospital. Cynthia's mother was on the phone and she was hysterical. She could hardly speak for crying. I heard Mum trying to calm her down (they'd always been good friends), then she called to Dad.

"We have to go back to the hospital!" she said.