The Other Boy: A quintessential English village in the midst of Christmas... An old mill with a past no one can forget… The Other Boy is a heart-breaking ghostly psychological thriller... by Andrea Hicks

Author:Andrea Hicks [Hicks, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime and suspense, contemporary fiction, murder, psychological suspense, women fiction, autism fiction, psychological thriller, paranormal suspense
Publisher: Nightingale Lane Publishing
Published: 2019-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

Slaughter’s Wood

16th December 1999

17

Lacey stayed with him until morning. She laid down on the dry curled up leaves and the bits of twig they’d used for a floor in the den, and waited for him to say something. She shivered as she watched him in case he moved, her eyes on his face. He was Aaron, and yet…this was an Aaron she didn’t know. Her family hadn’t known a moment of peace since he could walk and talk because he was never still and never silent, and she knew he was still awake because his eyes were open and he was watching her as closely as she watched him. Occasionally she would whisper to him, ‘Aaron. Aaron, this joke isn’t funny. Please stop pretending. You’re frightening me,’ but Aaron hadn’t answered. The blank expression on his face hadn’t changed, not once. He just stared at her until she fell into a troubled sleep. Throughout the night she woke momentarily, had reached out to touch him. His hands were stone cold and she worried he wasn’t warm enough, so she shuffled closer to him and lay next to him to warm him, laying her arm across his lap.

She was woken by someone dragging her out of the den by her arm. It hurt her and she cried out in shock. She saw her mum and dad standing outside the den, their faces pale, waxen, lips blue with shock, the sound of screaming; her mum falling to her knees in the mud, her hair like rats’ tails as she opened her mouth allowing the sound to fall out of her face as if it would never stop. She’d put trembling hands over her ears, not comprehending what had happened, looking up at her dad pleadingly, hoping he would let her stand next to him until he pushed her away from him with such savagery, and stared at her with such hatred she could hardly draw breath. He called her a bitch, a jealous little cow. He said he hated her, would always hate her for what she’d done and he hoped someone would lock her up and throw away the key. And all the time, all the time when she needed someone, someone to tell her…she didn’t know what she’d done.

They kept her in a strange place, the people who had taken her away, somewhere so unlike her house, so different to what she was used to she felt like an alien. Everything was hard, uncomfortable, the chairs were plastic, walls white; the room pristine and straight edged, and everywhere smelt of disinfectant. Grownups she didn’t know with hard faces questioned her for hours and hours until the accusations came and she wanted to be sick and lie down on the floor so she could sleep. She wanted to go home. She wanted them to leave her alone.

They said she killed Aaron, had hit him with a branch over and over and over until he was dead. They asked her why, why

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