Коралина / Coraline

On a china plate on the kitchen table was a spool of black cotton, and a long silver needle, and, beside them, two large black buttons.

“I donʼt think so,” said Coraline.

“Oh, but we want you to,” said her other mother. “We want you to stay. And itʼs just a little thing.”

“It wonʼt hurt,” said her other father.

Coraline knew that when grown-ups told you something wouldnКјt hurt it almost always did. She shook her head.

Her other mother smiled brightly and the hair on her head drifted like plants under the sea.

“We only want whatʼs best for you,” she said.

She put her hand on CoralineКјs shoulder. Coraline backed away.

“Iʼm going now,” said Coraline. She put her hands in her pockets. Her fingers closed around the stone with the hole in it.

Her other motherКјs hand scuttled off CoralineКјs shoulder like a frightened spider.

“If thatʼs what you want,” she said.

“Yes,” said Coraline.

“Weʼll see you soon, though,” said her other father.

“When you come back.”

“Um,” said Coraline.

“And then weʼll all be together as one big happy family,” said her other mother. “For ever and always.”

Coraline backed away. She turned and hurried into the drawing room and pulled open the door in the corner. There was no brick wall there now—just darkness, a night-black underground darkness that seemed as if things in it might be moving.

Coraline hesitated. She turned back. Her other mother and her other father were walking toward her, holding hands.

They were looking at her with their black button eyes. Or at least she thought they were looking at her. She couldnКјt be sure.

Her other mother reached out her free hand and beckoned, gently, with one white finger. Her pale lips mouthed, “Come back soon,” although she said nothing aloud.

Coraline took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness, where strange voices whispered and distant winds howled. She became certain that there was something in the dark behind her: something very old and very slow.

Her heart beat so hard and so loudly she was scared it would burst out of her chest. She closed her eyes against the dark.

Eventually she bumped into something, and opened her eyes, startled. She had bumped into an armchair, in her drawing room.

The open doorway behind her was blocked by rough red bricks.

She was home.

V

Coraline locked the door of the drawing room with the cold black key.