There are worse things than being invisible, the monster had said, and it was right.
Conor was no longer invisible. They all saw him now. But he was further away than ever.
A NOTE
A few days passed. Then a few more. It was hard to tell exactly how many.
They all seemed to be one big, grey day to Conor.
He’d get up in the morning and his grandma wouldn’t talk to him, not even about the phone call from the Headmistress.
He’d go to school, and no one would talk to him there either.
He’d visit his mum in hospital, and she’d be too tired to talk to him.
His dad would phone, and he’d have nothing to say.
There was no sign of the monster either, not since the attack on Harry, even though it was supposed to be time for Conor to tell a story in return.
Every night, Conor waited. Every night, it didn’t appear. Maybe because it knew Conor didn’t know what story to tell.
Or that Conor did know, but would refuse.
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