It was the last day of my ventriloquism classes. I had succeeded in becoming a ventriloquist — a person who can make their voice appear to come from somewhere else, typically a dummy of a person or animal.

I slung the crimson duffel bag over my shoulder and started for the building exit. As I pushed the metal handle of the glass door, a burst of cold air smacked me in the face. Instinctively, I zipped up my parka.

My mum was standing next to her car, holding a box. She hugged me as I reached her and handed the box to me.

“A little treat for my young ventriloquist!” she cheered.

The box had a Boston cream doughnut, my favourite. I thanked her for being considerate.

The grey clouds had engulfed the sky by the time we reached home. It could rain at any moment. I changed into my comfy clothes while my mum made us supper. The warmth of the hot chocolate and the softness of the sponge cake made that ordinary evening remarkable.

I was about to go to bed when my mum told me that she was expecting Viktor, my cousin, today. Nonetheless, I still went to bed because I was in no mood to interact with him.

I emptied my duffel bag and placed the dummy on the bookshelf. I switched off the light, drew the curtains and nestled in the bed. The quiet darkness fused with the cosiness of the duvets took me immediately into a dreamless sleep.

I got up in the middle of the night, sweating profusely. Who was calling my name at this hour of the night? I fumbled for my spectacles and switched on the lamp.

“Who is there?” I asked.

“Valentina,” it said my name again.

“Show yourself,” my voice a hoarse whisper now.

“You do not know me?” it said.

“Of course not!” I replied.

“None other than your Grinch,” it retorted.

Grinch was the name of my dummy, the one I placed on the bookshelf. But how could it talk on its own? A chill ran down my spine as I thought about the possibilities.

I picked up a flashlight from my side drawer and flashed it in the direction of the bookshelf. The dummy was not there. I scanned my room, but there was no sign of it.

“Trying to find me?” the chilly voice reverberated again. This time I realised that the voice was coming from underneath my bed. Mustering up some courage, I got out of bed, and the light fell upon someone who was sitting under my other duvet. With great momentum, I pulled the duvet, and to my surprise, it was my creepy cousin Viktor. I was enthralled when he told me that he too was a ventriloquist.

Published in Dawn, Young World, March 16th, 2024