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Page Turner Challenge: Picks

Missing Clayton by Bev Irwin

I don’t like it here. It’s dark. It’s cold. Why doesn’t Mommy come and get me? She knows I don’t like the dark.

“Your mommy has to find you,” the man had said.

Where is she?

“It’s a game,” he said.

He grabbed my arm. It hurt. It’s not a good game. He’s not nice.

I called her, but he put his smelly hand over my mouth. I wanted to bite it. Mommy doesn’t like biting. But he’s mean.

I don’t like this place. Will she find me here? She will. She’s good at hide-and-seek. I hope she finds me soon.

The boy sat cross-legged in the cave-like space, a scrap of blue tweed rug his only protection from the damp dirt floor. Putting his head in his hands and felt the mud coating his hair. He’d screamed when the man rubbed it on his head.

“My mommy doesn’t like my hair dirty. She’ll be mad at you.”

The man laughed. Not a nice laugh, either. He sounded like the Joker in Batman.  The laugh reminded him of his father when he got angry.

He had to be good. There was no closet to hide in here.


Bev Irwin is from London, ON

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