Rosie’s the fifth member of the Sleepover Club. Her birthday’s July 15th. The last one after mine. Rosie’s mum makes a huge thing about her birthday. I think it’s because she worries that Rosie doesn’t get as much attention as her brother and sister, so she makes it up to her then. Frankie and I were talking about it the other day, and we both think Rosie deserves a special birthday.
But hang on, I’m sidetracking. Why was I talking about birthdays? Oh yes! I was saying that mostly people don’t notice what day and date it is… but Friday 13th. Eeeeeek! You always notice that date. And that’s the day we had this totally scary sleepover at my house. I’ll tell you all about it in just a minute… it was brilliant.
I don’t know if you’re superstitious. I’m not, not really – but Friday 13th does make you feel a bit creepy, doesn’t it? And if you drop a cup, or fall over, or break something, you can’t help thinking it all happened because it’s an unlucky day, even if you fall over twice as much on other days.
It’s also a great day for telling horror stories and, as you know, I love horror stories. I know some true ones, too, because my dad’s a doctor, and sometimes he tells us stories about what happened in the old days. Did you know that doctors used to saw off people’s legs while they were still wide awake? It’s true. They’d give them a bit of leather to chew on, but that’s all. And when they were finished they just threw the old leg into a bucket – and by the end of the day the bucket was full of legs!
Does that give you chills up and down your spine? It did when Dad told me – but I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up, so I’ve got to get used to all that kind of stuff. I practise by watching TV programmes like Casualty – and even when there’s blood everywhere, I love it!
I told the Sleepover Club about the bucket full of legs and Frankie said it was the best story she’d heard in ages. Fliss said it was disgusting – she’s a bit squeamish about things like that – but she still went and told her younger brother. And then her mum told me off because he woke up in the night screaming.
I think it might have been the leg story that started Frankie and me thinking about Friday 13th. Frankie had the idea to have a sleepover on that night, but it was my idea to make it a really really special one… well, I’m sure you’ll agree, it was much too good an opportunity to miss. We were going to make sure we had the creepiest, scariest Friday 13th ever!
Lyndz and Rosie thought it was a brilliant idea. Only Fliss didn’t, which wasn’t a great surprise. She said she couldn’t come because she goes to tea with her dad and his new baby on Fridays.
Frankie stared at her. “But you’re always home by about half-past six,” she said.
Fliss wriggled, and went pink. “I might have to stay later,” she said.
Frankie shook her head. “Felicity Sidebotham,” she said, “are you scared?”
Fliss went even pinker. “Of course I’m not,” she said, but her voice was a little bit wobbly.
Lyndz patted her arm. “It’ll be OK,” she said. “We’ll just have a lot of fun.”
“Yes,” Frankie said. “Lots of scary fun!”
“I’m not scared!” Fliss said, but she still sounded squeakier than usual.
“So does that mean you’ll come?” I asked.
“Of course I will,” she said. “Just as long as you don’t go too far.”
That made me laugh. I told Fliss she sounded just like her mum. Fliss tossed her head and said she didn’t, but we all knew that that was exactly what her mum would have said. Looking back on it now, maybe we should have taken more notice… but of course, we didn’t!
Everyone came round to my house after school the next day so we could sort out a plan. A Friday 13th super plan! We grabbed a packet of choccy biscuits, some crisps and a coke each, and sneaked up to my room. Molly the Monster was out somewhere, so we piled up the pillows and duvets from her bed and mine and made ourselves really comfortable.
“We need to make a list,” Frankie said. “Where’s a pen?”
I found a stubby old pencil under my bed. It’s always exciting, looking under my bed. The weirdest things pop out sometimes, and I know I haven’t put them there.
I mean, there was the time when Emma lost her best trainers. Anyone would have thought she’d lost the crown jewels, the way she went on about it. She kept looking at me, too, and she knows I don’t have the same size feet as her. Well, not quite. I have to stuff loads of extra socks on if I want to wear Em’s shoes.
Anyway, even Dad got involved and he ordered a huge search. And guess where they were? Yes – that’s right. Under my bed! I told Dad they must have walked there by themselves, but he just made a sort of humph! noise.
The problem was, in the hunt Mum found Molly’s homework diary under my bed, and Monster Features said it was my fault! Can you believe it? I never touched her diary, and if I’d known it was there I would’ve given it back to her. I don’t want anything of Molly’s in my half of the room.
Then Dad went on about the other things… two pairs of jeans (dirty), one sweatshirt (crumpled), one bag of rat food (just a little bit open), last week’s maths test (scrumpled), half a bar of chocolate (melted), lots of bits of paper, an empty coke can, one clean blue sock, one smelly green sock, one bedroom slipper, three pens, an old rubber… and some very interesting fluffy bits.
Mum had a go at me, too, and Molly moaned and groaned. It went on for ages. Personally I don’t know what they were fussing about.
But there I go, sidetracking again. I was telling you about our sleepover, wasn’t I? So, anyway, I found the pencil and tore a piece of paper out of an old notebook. Then we got planning. Frankie wrote down:
1. Check sleepover OK with Kenny’s mum.
2. Get rid of Molly.
I sighed when she put down number two. Some chance! If Molly has a friend to stay I’m quite happy to make myself scarce and share Emma’s room. There’s always loads of interesting things to poke around in in there, so you’d think Molly would be pleased to do the same for me… but oh, no. She hates moving out of our room, and she hates all my friends, too.
“Maybe she’ll be away that night,” Fliss said hopefully.
I began to giggle. “Yeah – after all, it is Friday 13th! Maybe she’ll be off scaring small children!”
“Frightening little old ladies!” said Lyndz.
Rosie sniggered. “Turning the milk sour on people’s doorsteps!”
“Sending murderers screaming home to their grannies!” Frankie shrieked.
That cracked us all up. We rolled about on the floor, we were laughing so much. Some coke cans fell over and the crisps got scrunched into the carpet, but we just couldn’t stop.
At last we sat up, and I scrabbled around for the piece of paper. It had got very soggy, so I tore out another sheet and we started again.
“What