Penny woke in the middle of the night. She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t move – there was a heavy weight on her chest, pinning her down to the bed. It felt like there was something, or someone sitting on her chest!
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Penny saw an old hag was sitting right on top of her. The bony hag put her wrinkled, warty hands around Penny’s neck, digging her
long black nails in, deeper and deeper . . . Penny struggled for breath, terrified. Gasping for air, and scratching at the witch’s face, Penny let out a gurgled groan. Her parents raced to the room, turning on the light.
“What’s wrong, Penny?!” asked Dad.
Penny sat up in the sudden light and looked frantically around the room. With the flick of a switch, the hag was gone.
“There was someone here,” Penny said, hot tears running down her face. “A witch was trying to kill me!”
“There’s no one here but us,” said Mom. “You must have been having a bad dream.”
Penny looked around the room; had it been a dream? She began to relax. If the hag had been real, how could she have disappeared so quickly?
But then Mom touched Penny’s bruised and tender skin, puzzled.
“Penny, what are these scratches around your neck?
Who did this?”
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