Imagine That: Eyeball

sound. I couldn't see the eyeball. Maybe it was gone now?

I shut the window and sat on me edge of my bed. There, on the dresser, in the space where the model had been, was the eyeball.

Suddenly I hated that thing. It was tormenting me. Sure, I had helped steal the box. I shouldn't have let Cropper lead me into the shop. It was partly my fault, by why didn't the eyeball follow Cropper around. It wasn't fair!

I ran through the house and out the door again. Mum called something to me but I didn't hear her. She watched me from the kitchen window as I hared off down the street.

That was a nightmarish run. Everywhere I looked I saw the eyeball. It was perched on top of fence posts, hiding under the edge of rooftops, balancing on window sills. It seemed to be everywhere I looked. I ran all the way through town and collapsed against the high brick wall outside an old house. I was puffing so hard I could hardly think straight.

The eyeball watched me from the footpath. Unblinking. Cold. I ran towards it and stamped my foot furiously where it lay. It disappeared. I looked around for it. Nothing. Where was it now? I was feeling so desperate I wanted to scream!

Suddenly, the ground under me began to shake. I slipped and fell. The footpath was bending upwards under me. The wall was splitting, cracking. Loose bricks were tumbling down, nearly hitting me. I tried to stand up but the curve of the footpath was too steep. Then I saw it. The footpath was the eyeball! I was sitting right on top, and the black pupil was opening. There was no escape!

I yelled for help and scrambled down the side of the eye. The footpath was flat and solid where I landed. What a relief. I ran back up the way I had come. I had had an idea.

I ran all the way back to the rubbish tin where I had dropped the match box. I didn't care what people thought of me. I plunged my hands into the rubbish and pulled it out.

Paper, sticky wrappers, cans, used cigarette lighters, cigar stubs, wet tissues, a bottle . . . I had it. The match box was in my hands again. I heard someone starting to tell me off and bolted.

Now I knew what to do, I wasn't so worried. The eyeball was nestled inside the match box again. It looked at me, and turned slightly as I held it up. The green ring