Another Me by Cathy MacPhail

Author:Cathy MacPhail
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2003-12-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

It was all so clear to me now. Monica had sworn she’d get her revenge because I’d got the part she’d wanted. And, wasn’t it then that everything had started to happen? Where had she been on the night of that first rehearsal when those footsteps had followed me down the dark corridor?

In the girls’ toilets.

I could see her now, coming out of there, looking smug. Smug because I had been so afraid. She’d been in there for ages, Dawn had told me. Or had she? Had she, instead, left the auditorium and followed me, switching off the lights, one by one? Knowing she was frightening me. Then, had she darted back into the toilets before anyone noticed? Of course she had. And she could have been the girl in the flats too. She didn’t live very far away from me. How easy to fool Mrs Brennan. She was blind as a bat anyway. She never saw anything beyond my shiny hair. Well, Monica had shiny hair too. Just like mine.

Now, even more like mine.

All this passed through my mind in the blink of an eye. Before anyone had even looked up and saw me standing there.

Monica saw me first. Her face went white. She at least had the decency to look guilty. I could see she was ready with a smart remark.

But I didn’t give her time to say a word. I roared like a demon out of hell and ran at her. ‘You! You’ve been doing this all along!’ I caught her by the shoulders and sent her sprawling on the floor. Her friends tried to hold me back, but I had the strength of ten of them. I jumped on Monica and grabbed her hair and banged her head hard on the floor. She was too astonished to fight back. She kept screaming at me, ‘You’re mad! You are mad! Get her off me.’

But no one dared. They were afraid of me. Afraid of my anger.

‘You’re evil!’ I yelled at her. ‘How could you do such an evil thing!’

Now she tried to scratch me, bite me. But there was no contest.

I had never felt such a fury. All I wanted was to make her suffer the way I had been suffering over the past few weeks.

It took two of the teachers – Mr Hardie and Mrs Williams – to drag me away from Monica. Even then I struggled to reach her. ‘You don’t know what she’s done!’ I kept shouting.

Monica struggled to her feet. She was crying, and her hair was standing on end. ‘I didn’t do anything. She’s crazy! She’s been going crazy for weeks.’

They practically carried me to Mrs Williams’ office, as half the school looked on as if I was some alien creature, something to be afraid of.

Past Drew Fraser, who stared at me silently, his face puzzled. I wanted to tell him, shout out to him, ‘The double was Monica all the time.’ But by this time I was crying too.

Mrs Williams waited until I’d calmed down before she asked me a thing.

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