Under My Skin (27 page)

‘Not for a single second,' Sally admitted, gripping the sink so hard that what was left of her fingers
blazed
. The burn is a lingering reminder of the fire.

‘Don't you get it?' Molly Sue went on, again using her mouth and tongue. ‘I am not a
drawing
of a woman. I am something bigger and older than your limited little brain can understand and I owned you long before Boris got his hands on.'

Sally stared her reflection down. ‘I know what you are.'

Molly Sue's voice changed. It became older, sonorous. Not just old,
ancient
. ‘You know
nothing
. I am older than man and word. Wherever there is death and pain and hate and suffering, I am there to sip it up like red wine. I have taken countless names in a million languages, and as many forms and faces.' And then she was Molly Sue again. ‘Doll, it's gonna take more than a cookout to stop me. Did ya really think yo boy toy saved yo life?
I
kept you alive. By rights, you should be deep fried chicken right now. Extra crispy.'

It was hard to admit, but she couldn't pretend. ‘I knew,' Sally said. ‘I knew if I was alive then you would be too. I knew.'

‘I am eternal. I ain't goin' nowhere.'

Sally looked herself dead in the eye. She was done with Molly Sue's doom-filled warnings. No more playing. ‘I know. And I don't care.'

Molly Sue paused. ‘What?'

I'm not scared any more
. OK, that was a lie. Sally
was
scared and might always be, but admitting it felt freeing, like letting a balloon filled with toxic gas float away into the clouds. She'd let go of the shame if not the fear. ‘It looks like you and I are stuck with each other, so we need to get some things straight; establish some ground rules.'

Molly Sue laughed bitterly. ‘I don't think you're gettin' how this deal works, darlin' . . .'

‘Oh, I get it,' Sally said, pouring everything she had into remaining cool and calm. ‘And I want to thank you.'

Another pause. ‘Ya wanna what?'

A tear ran down Sally's face – she was allowed one tear of mourning for her former self. But just one. ‘You have changed me so much and, here's the thing: I needed to change. Before you I thought I was weak and scared and uncertain.'

‘You got that right.'

‘No. I only
thought
I was. You made me see I was wrong. You made me realise I could do things I never thought I'd do. I found my voice, I let people see me, I
sang
. . . so thank you. I needed you.' Sally smiled at herself in the mirror. ‘Just one problem, Molly Sue. You created a monster. I'm stronger than you now.'

Molly Sue laughed again. ‘Is that what you think?'

Sally nodded. ‘It's what I know. I can feel you inside me and, sure, you're noisy, but you're so
small
. You are just a
voice
in my head
. You're a parasite. You're a backseat driver. I think I get it now. I
made
you. At the tattoo parlour, I wanted something bad, maybe I wanted to be bad.' Her reflection flinched and Sally knew at once she was right. She had shaped these beings, whatever they were. ‘You were something bad and Bernadette was my something good. I created you both. But I'm neither virgin or vamp. I'm . . . just
me
. And you . . . you are
nothing
.'

‘Nice try, darlin', but —'

Sally silenced her. She simply made her stop. In her mind, Sally pictured grasping that blackness, which now seemed little more than ink. Perhaps Molly Sue was something vast and ancient, or maybe, just maybe, she was something that wanted her to believe she was. Before, the presence had seemed so enormous, but only because she'd been so near. Up close, even the most insignificant things look huge. Now, taking a step back, Sally felt how
tiny
Molly Sue was, hardly bigger than her little fingernail. She was dark and frightening and loud, but she was so
small
. So easy to shut away. ‘You don't own me . . . and you can't control me.'

There was a dark corner in her mind that Sally thought would suit Molly Sue quite nicely. Gritting her teeth, she pushed the darkness far, far behind the things and people she loved. Mum, Dad, Stan and Jennie.
Taryn, Zeke and Dante
. She pushed her behind everything she was excited about and everything she had to look forward to, all the things she might be. There were so many tomorrows ahead.

She'd be there if Sally needed her. Maybe she'd come in handy one day . . . Molly Sue did, after all, have her uses. Sally didn't doubt there'd be moments of weakness, days where she wasn't so strong, and those were the days when she'd really have to be vigilant or Molly Sue could so easily slip back into control. But she'd be ready. She knew the signs now.

‘You can't do this to me!' Molly Sue screamed like a bratty child. Sally felt her trying to cling on, trying to remain in control. But Sally was stronger. She kept pushing and pushing, filling her head with frogs at the pond; dying Jennie's hair over the bathtub; gummy bears in Stan's room. She thought about the kiss. One day soon, she
would
sing on stage.

As Molly Sue's voice faded to nothing, Sally looked deep into her own steely eyes to issue a final warning. ‘Listen up, Molly Sue. I'm only going to say this once.' Her lips curled into a slight smile. ‘Shut the fuck up.'

The End

Working with Hot Key Books is always so effortless, although I'm sure that like a beautiful swan, as I glide along, the team are kicking their little legs really fast. So a massive thank you to everyone who worked on
Under My Skin
, especially the editorial team of Emma Matthewson, Naomi Colthurst and Melissa Hyder. Huge thanks to Jet Purdie for the gorgeous cover and humouring my cover suggestions; Sarah Odedina; Sara O'Connor; Kate Manning; Sanne Vliegenthart; Cait Davies and Jennifer Green. Like any author, you spend a lot of time with your publicist on trains and it's always a pleasure to take a trip with Rosi Crawley and Livs Mead.

Thank you, as ever, to my agent Jo Williamson and everyone at Antony Harwood Ltd. Continued love and thanks to all the booksellers, librarians, teachers and bloggers who've supported me for the past four years.

Keen-eyed readers will have by now spotted Kerry Turner and Sam Powick are my regular beta readers and their opinion is still so important. Extra special thanks to Ana Grilo. Thanks to Erik Tomlin for trying to clear
Little Shop
lyrics. Finally thanks to Eleanor Ford (the real one) whose generous contribution to
Authors For Philippines
earned her name a spot in this novel.

To the readers, thank you so much for sticking with me. Your letters, emails and tweets help plug the hole in my heart that love leaks from.

PS – Prince says hi, too
.

For eight years, James Dawson was a teacher specialising in Personal, Social, Health and Citizenship Education (PSHCE). As well as being a sexpert, his teen horror fiction and non-fiction writing led to him being nominated for and winning the Queen of Teen award in the summer of 2014, making James the first ‘Boy Queen'. His debut, best-selling YA novel
Hollow Pike
was followed by YA thriller
Cruel Summer
. James's first non-fiction title,
Being a Boy
, the ultimate guide to puberty, sex and relationships for young men, was published in Autumn 2013.

James is also a Stonewall Schools Role Model, and his guide to being LGBT* – entitled
This Book is Gay
– was released in summer 2014, alongside his first fiction title for Hot Key Books,
Say Her Name
. When he's not writing books to scare teenagers in a variety of ways, James can usually be found listening to pop music and watching
Doctor Who
and horror movies. He lives and writes in London. Follow James at either
www.askjamesdawson.com
or at
www.jamesdawsonbooks.com
or on Twitter:
@_jamesdawson

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First published in Great Britain in 2015 by Hot Key Books

Northburgh House, 10 Northburgh Street, London EC1V 0AT

Text copyright © James Dawson 2015

The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-4714-0297-5

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