Free Under My Skin by James Dawson Page B

Everyone else was going about their business. That was weird.
    â€˜Oh, darlin’,’ said the voice, as clear as day. ‘Don’t worry, there’s only you that can hear me. It’s me, Molly Sue.’

Chapter Seven
    â€˜Can you hear that?’ Sally grabbed Stan, pulling him away from his conversation with some B-friends.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜That girl?’ Sally once more scanned the hall.
    The American spoke again. She was so loud, she must be close by. ‘Girl, when you’re done whippin’ your head around, we should probably talk alone.’
    Stan frowned. ‘Sally, I can’t hear anything. Are you OK?’
    Sally felt the colour purge out of her face. Her legs turned to spaghetti and she realised too late she was going to fall. She clung to Stan.
    â€˜Sally!’
    That got Mr Robert’s attention. ‘Sally? What’s wrong?’
    â€˜God, what a drama queen.’ Melody rolled her eyes.
    The American seemed to agree. ‘Five Gs, baby. Good God, Girl, Get A Grip.’
    â€˜Sally?’ Jennie, who’d been with Kyle, came to her side.
    â€˜I’m fine,’ Sally blurted out. ‘I . . . I just need the bathroom.’
    â€˜Oh, that’s nice,’ Melody sniggered.
    â€˜Didn’t her mama learn her no manners?’ the voice said.
    The voice only I can hear,
thought Sally.
    â€˜You want me to come with you?’ Jennie asked, clearly concerned.
    â€˜No! No. I’m fine. I promise.’ Sally just had to get out of the room. If her head was going to explode – and it felt like it might – she didn’t want anyone to see. Trying as hard as she could to walk in a straight line, no small feat with the ground spinning, Sally made it to the exit and into the corridor. Steadying herself against the wall, she felt her way to the disabled toilet, knowing no one would disturb her in there.
    She locked the door behind herself and collapsed onto the toilet, gripping the handrail. Bleach and illicit cigarette smoke assaulted her nostrils.
    This isn’t happening. This SERIOUSLY isn’t happening.
    â€˜It surely is, darlin’,’ the voice replied. ‘Get used to it.’
    Sally jammed her hands over her ears. ‘Go away!’ she hissed, worried someone would hear her.
    â€˜Now where amma gonna go?’
    This can’t be real. I’m cracking up. Oh God, I’ve gone mad like Uncle John.
    â€˜Sugar pie, we need to get past this. I know it’s a shock and all, but the quicker y’all adjust, the better it’ll be for ya. It’s gon’ be fine and dandy, just you wait.’
    Sally stood and faced the mirror. Scared to look but unable to not, Sally lifted the baggy shirt and vest underneath. Turning around, she saw Molly Sue, still peering over her shoulder.
    And then Molly Sue turned.
    The tattoo moved, fully animated, turning to face her.
    â€˜No!’ Sally cried aloud.
    Molly Sue’s ruby lips moved. ‘I’m gon’ square with ya. I know this must be a trip. But ya wanna try being a tattoo sometime! How’d ya think I feel?’
    Sally dropped her shirt and stumbled backwards, colliding with the sanitary bin. ‘What . . . ? I don’t understand . . . am I going mad?’
    â€˜No, ma’am. I am one hundred per cent the real deal. I sure am sorry I didn’t say somethin’ last night. It takes a few shakes to sink in, y’know? I wasn’t gon’ say anything ’til we were alone, but that Melody Vine sure is a piece o’ work, ain’t she?’
    Sally clutched her head, squeezing her skull as hard as she could. She tasted tears running into her mouth. ‘Please, stop . . .’
    â€˜Now lookee here. It’s gonna be fine, sugar.’ The voice changed – cooler and more authoritative. ‘All you need to do is get yo’ pretty little ass back into that hall before someone comes a-lookin’ for ya. Think