The shaman's curse

Lily couldn't believe it when her brother, Wiley, brought home a replica model of their village, Gatesby, from the jumble sale.
"Wha'dya buy that thing for?" she asked, screwing her face up with disbelief that he had spent his pocket money on something she considered completely pointless and grossly filthy.
"I think it's cool," replied Wiley. "Look, it even has the Old Manor house on it, in the woods."
Lily frowned at him. "That just goes to show how old that thing is. The Old Manor house was torn down a decade ago," she said staring at the solitary matchbox sized house nestled amongst cotton-topped trees of Wiley's village. "Who sold that to you anyway?"
"I dunno," said Wiley as he carried the three foot square board up the stairs to his room. "Some old woman."
"Her name's Mrs Wright, Wiley, not 'some old woman'," bellowed Lily's mum from the front door as she struggled to carrying in an old Singer sewing machine that she had bought.
"Who's Mrs Wright?" asked Lily.
"She used to be the Housekeeper of the Manor before Lord Seldhurst died," she said. "I think she lives in Greenbow now."
Lily looked at her mother struggling beneath the weight of the machine and the three bags looped over her arms. She thought about helping but was suddenly curious about Wiley's purchase. She'd heard about Lord Seldhurst and his Manor. Rumour had it the house was torn down because it was haunted, not because, as reported in the papers, it was condemned by Structural Engineers who claimed it was better to knock it down than let it fall down. Could it be that Wiley had, in his possession, a piece of the Old Manor?
She took the stairs two by two and poked her head round the door of Wiley's room.
Wiley was already playing with it. He'd dug out a few miniature cars and was busily driving them up and down the streets of the village, pretending he was various residents.
Getting a better look at the model village, Lily noticed it was remarkably up-to-date: the school even had its new extension by the technical studies block. 'Mrs Wright must have added to it,' Lily thought. 'I wonder why she wanted to get rid of it?'

In the days that followed Lily noticed Wiley was becoming more and more engrossed with his model village. He spent most of his time in his room, crafting make believe stories about the residents and acting them out with plastic soldiers. At first Lily found it entertaining and was impressed with Wiley's vivid imagination, especially given he'd previously spent most of his time playing games on his X-Station, but one day was chilled when an argument Wiley had imagined between two of his school friends over a remote control car actually happened.
It was freakish but Lily brushed it off as mere coincidence. 'Perhaps Wiley's heard them bickering before,' she thought.
But the next day Wiley made another startling prediction. Lily overheard him in his bedroom playing with the model and shouting that the school gym was flooding and to call the fire brigade. Sure enough, when Lily got to school she saw a crowd of people outside the gym block and numerous teachers dragging out bits of gym equipment-mats, balls, the pommel horse, bean bags-all sodden.
"What's going on?" she asked a lanky fifth year.
"Someone left the tap running in the toilets," he grunted. "Whole block's flooded."
Lily felt the blood drain from her face and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. For the rest of the day she couldn't concentrate on her classes or even her friends.
"What's up with you today?" they asked her.
"Nothing, I'm fine," she said knowing full well that she wasn't. She was numb with confusion. 'How could it be? How could he have known?' she thought.
When she got home she challenged Wiley about it, but Wiley was more angry that she had been eavesdropping on his playtime than alarmed about his prediction.
"Just butt out of my room," he snapped. "This is my toy, not yours. I paid for it fair and square and you're not allowed anywhere near it."
But Lily was too intrigued to let the matter drop. Every day Wiley had a fresh and imaginative story that miraculously came true. At first they were relatively harmless but gradually became more sinister. Wiley predicted that Marcus Finchley would be expelled for painting the school walls with graffiti, he predicted that Deakins General Store was going to be robbed and he predicted the three car pile up outside the village.
Despite Lily's endeavours to distract Wiley from his new toy so as to stop his macabre premonitions Wiley pointedly refused and even threatened to punch Lily if she dared to even speak of his toy.
It was the final straw for Lily. She caught the number fifty bus that took her straight to Greenbow village and found that Mrs Wright was living in a small cottage on the outskirts. It was a dilapidated, semi-detached bungalow with a warped green door and a tiled roof that was sunken in the middle, as though something heavy had been resting on it.
Before Lily had even raised a hand to knock on the door it creaked open. Standing in the hallway was a tall, grey-haired old woman.
"I had a feeling someone would come calling on me," the woman said. "Though I didn't expect it to be you. "
"You were expecting my brother then?"
"He was the one that bought the model, yes?"
Lily nodded.
"You better come in," the woman said and waddled down the hallway and into a small sitting room.
Tentatively Lily followed her, feeling so apprehensive her stomach was tied in a knot.
"Why were you expecting my brother?" Lily asked as she sat on a threadbare armchair that the woman offered her.
"I was half expecting him," the woman clarified, "and half hoping I wouldn't see him."
"Why?"
The woman eyed Lily up and down. "You know about the model. Don't you? What it does?"
"Vaguely," Lily replied. "It seems to have some sort of control over Wiley."
"Predictions? Premonitions?" the woman asked.
Lily nodded, not wanting to give too much away about her own situation, preferring to make the woman tell her what she needed to know.
"I should have burned it while I had the chance," the woman said as she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her chin.
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I foolishly thought the curse was a myth. I knew Lord Seldhurst was into allsorts of occult things. Divination, sorcery, clairvoyance. He was fascinated by it all. He paid for mediums, shamans, occultists, you name it, to come to the Manor. He was convinced that there was a spirit residing in the house. One of them suggested he make a model of the village to vanquish the malevolent presence. But when he did his paranoia got worse. He said he kept seeing things in his mind. It drove him made. When he died I was responsible for clearing out the Manor. Most of his belongings went to auction to pay off his debts but I kept a few things, including the model because I liked it."
"If you liked it why did you sell it?"
The woman was hesitant to answer. "It started to make me feel uneasy. That's all," she said.
Lily sensed she was holding something back. "You felt it too didn't you. You started seeing things. That's why you got rid of it. But rather than burn it you thought you'd make a few quid," Lily spat. She was so angry she could feel the heat rise from her feet through her body.
"I never intended for anyone to be hurt by it," said Mrs Wright in a pitiful voice.
"But they have," said Lily. "My brother is making all sorts of horrid predictions and who knows where its going to end or how. He's got no idea what it means. He's too young to understand and moreover they're making him possessive and aggressive and he's never been like that with me."
"You can end it all you know," explained Mrs Wright, seemingly trying to offer a solution.
"How?"
"Burn it. Burn it to the ground before more damage is done. That's the only way you can end it."

Lily left the old woman in a fit of rage. She was grateful of the tip but far too annoyed that the woman's selfishness had meant her brother was being influenced by the product of a madman. When she got home she heard Wiley playing with his model.
"Fire, fire," she heard him say. "Call the fire brigade. It's on fire."
Lily felt an icy chill run across her. 'What was on fire?' she thought. Desperate to know what his latest prediction was she burst into his bedroom. Wiley had a lit candle resting on the model by the School.
"Get away from it, Wiley. Get away from the model now. It's cursed. It's making you sick."
"No. You get away," he said and lunged for her, pushing her into the door.
Lily couldn't believe how much strength he had in him. She reached out for him but he stumbled back and knocked the model off its table sending it crashing to the floor. The candle tipped over too and ignited the dry paper miniature houses and trees.
"No, my model, my village," Wiley cried. "You've ruined it."
"What's going to go on fire, Wiley?" cried Lily as the model smouldered. "You have to tell me."
"My village, my toy, that's what's on fire."
"No before. When you were playing you said 'fire, fire, call the fire brigade.' What did you mean? What was going to go on fire?"
Wiley ran to the bathroom and came back with a filled jug of water. He tossed it on the burning model but it was too late. It was mostly destroyed. Deflated, Wiley knelt down beside his beloved toy and wept.
"Wiley tell me, please," pleaded Lily. "What's on fire?"
As tears poured down Wiley's cheeks he muttered the words. "The school."
Lily tore out of the house as fast as she could but the plumes of smoke rising into the aquamarine blue sky was the harbinger of doom that Lily didn't want to see. As she rounded the corner of the park and turned into School Road she could see the flames licking the sky. She was too late. All she could hope for was that nobody was hurt.
As she stood, breathless and distraught that she didn't act quickly enough to stop the carnage she hoped that her and Wiley's nightmare would now be over: now that the model was destroyed.