For some reason -- work or finances or maybe even simply pity -- a family moves down from Inverness to Leadworth. They move in with Tabetha's sister Sharon, who is an indefinably sad woman who lives alone in a house too big for her (although perhaps, in another universe, she too had a family [how long has this been going on?]) and is more than happy to welcome them into her echoing void. Or perhaps she only claims this, perhaps she does it out of obligation and expectation. This doesn't matter.
The child hates it, of course. She hates everything about it, but above all she hates the emptiness. The absence. And...the crack. The crack in the wall of the room they've given her to sleep in, a room which has always been empty but which they know on some level is a child's bedroom. It terrifies her. It whispers and it eats, she knows it does, although she isn't sure what that means. Did she really move in with so few toys?
Oh well, it's christmas soon so she gets new ones. And on it goes. She begs to be given a different room but her parents laugh and say that's silly. They've already set up her things. She'll get used to it. Adjustment is difficult but she'd feel the same in any other room.
And on it goes. And the crack whispers, and eats, and eats, and eats.
It's easter and her mum is putting her to bed. The crack is worse than usual somehow, glowing almost, and the fear she feels is tangible. "Don't be silly dear" her mum says, as she has said a million times, "it's just an ordinary crack. I'll prove it, see?" And she walks up to it and touches it.
It's easter and her da is putting her to bed. She doesn't have a mum, never has. This is normal, and mundane, that she has somehow been born without one. It doesn't even occur to her to think about, why should it? But fear and loss course through her. The source of the loss is implacable, but the fear is not. "The crack..." she murmers, drawing her covers to her chin. Her da laughs. "Oh Amelia, not that again! It's only a crack in the drywall. See?" And he walks up to it and touches it.
It's easter and Amelia is putting herself to bed. She doesn't have parents, never has. This is normal, and mundane, and not worth a thought, that she has somehow been born without them. But tonight the crack in her wall leers at her, and she feels even more scared of it than usual. She can't sleep. She feels like something horrible has just happened, although she doesn't know what it could be, and something still more horrible is coming. Something like death, but more so.
She gets out of bed and sits down again on top of it, as far from the crack as possible.
She doesn't normally pray, and isn't quite sure where to begin. But something about the night seems to call for it. "Dear Santa..." she begins.