Takeshita Demons Read Online Free

to
fly off and eat me once the sun goes down tonight.
No. I didn't think so.
    "Takeshita-san." She wouldn't leave me alone.
"Would you like to read your essay to the class?" she
asked, teeth shining. She was waving my essay pages
in one long-fingered hand.
    I looked down at my own hands, picking at a
fingernail. I thought if I stayed silent she might leave
me alone. Fat chance.
    "Takeshita-san," she said. "Read your essay to
the class." This was no longer a request. It was an
order. The rest of the class sat silent. They'd hardly
moved all morning. Even Alex hadn't teased me
when Mrs Okuda kept using my surname.
    "Erm." There was no way I was going up there
to stand next to her. No way in the world.
    But Mrs Okuda thought differently.
"Takeshita-san," she said, narrowing her eyes and
pursing her purple lips till they were thin and tight as veins. "Sakubun yonde. Read it." She snapped
out the words, using Japanese so rude my mother
would have slapped me. She held my essay out,
her caramel arm pointing right at my head, as if
she was a kyudo master lining me up in the sights
of an invisible arrow.

    The other kids sat still as statues. Not even
Alex turned round. A strange quiet fell upon the
classroom, as if we were waiting for something
to explode. I hoped it would be Mrs Okuda. I held
my breath and watched as colour flooded her face.
She was flushing almost as purple as her lipstick.
What would happen next? Could her head fly off,
right in the middle the day?
    "Takeshita-san." She was hissing now. She took
a step forward and my heart started knocking
so hard I could hear it banging against the wood of
my desk. Perhaps her head would come flying off
and eat me right there and then.
    At that moment there was a brisk tap at the door.
    Mrs Okuda froze, her arm still outstretched,
pointing.
    The door swung open and our deputy head,
Mrs Thompson, came trotting in.
    She was dressed in plain black trousers with
a neat blue jumper, and she didn't look a bit as if she was going to send her head flying round the
room to eat me. I could have kissed her.

    "Morning, Mrs..." Mrs Thompson paused,
obviously unsure of our supply teacher's name.
    "Okuda," mouthed our shiny teacher, the colour
draining from her face. "Mrs Okuda." She quickly
pulled her pointing hand back down to her side.
    "Mrs Okuda." Mrs Thompson beamed at her.
"Morning, class." She smiled at us. "I trust you've
been behaving for Mrs Okuda?" She took a quick
glance at Alex's desk and seemed satisfied with what
she saw. He was sitting quietly for a change.
    "Can I help you, Mrs Thompson?" Mrs Okuda
asked, recovering her composure. She tried to match
Mrs Thompson's smile, baring her purple-rimmed
teeth. She looked more like a wolf.
    "I've come with dreadful news," Mrs Thompson
said, smiling. She looked as if her news was about
as dreadful as winning a year's supply of free
ice-cream or getting all the numbers in the
Jackpot Lotto.
    "Yes...?" Mrs Okuda leaned in, eager to
hear more.
    I held my breath. Did Mrs Thompson know
about the nukekubi? Was she sending the police?
Was my little brother OK?

    Mrs Thompson looked around the class,
enjoying her moment in the spotlight.
    "Yes?" Mrs Okuda asked again.
    "You've all got the rest of the day off school,"
Mrs Thompson announced at last, throwing her
arms wide as if she was presenting prizes at assembly.
"It's snowing outside and the forecast is for more
snow. You should all make your way home early,
before lunch. It looks as if the roads and footpaths
might soon be snowed over."
    A massive weight lifted from the class. Kids
started chatting with their neighbours or packing
their bags in a rush. I didn't wait to hear more.
I packed my bag just as fast as the rest of them. It was
time to get out.
    Mrs Thompson filled us in on sensible
snow-related details. We were to go straight home,
no dilly-dallying. If the snow was still bad in the
morning, we were to ring the school