Buried Alive! by Jacqueline Wilson

terrible premonition.
    Someone started to give triumphant Tarzan whoops as he got nearer and nearer. I could feel my trapped skin erupting in goosebumps.
    Then I heard a thump thump as two very big boots jumped onto the sand.
    I saw Biscuits mouth one terrible word.
    Prickle-Head.
    â€˜Aha! Who have we got here?’ he yelled triumphantly. ‘Fun time!’
    Biscuits was still standing statue-still. Then he moved. I wouldn’t have blamed him for one minute if he’d clambered back over the rocks to the other beach. I think I might have done. And he could always say he was rushing off to get my dad.
    But Biscuits didn’t run away and really abandon me. He started running towards me, spade at the ready, all set to dig me out and rescue me.
    But he didn’t have time. Prickle-Head got to me first.
    â€˜What’s this weird little squashy thing in the sand?’ he said. ‘Is it a little jellyfish?’ He put his great boot right on top of my head, pressing down hard enough to hurt.
    â€˜Get off!’ I said.
    â€˜Oooh! The jellyfish can talk! Yuck, it really
is
a jellyfish, there’s slime and snot all over its face.’
    I sniffed desperately.
    â€˜Oh my, it’s not a jellyfish at all, it’s the little Mummy’s boy. What’s happened to its weedy wimpy little body then? Someone’s chopped its head off. Well, it’s no use to anyone. Might as well use it as a football, eh?’ He took his boot off my head and took aim.
    â€˜Don’t you dare kick him!’ Biscuits yelled, and he started whirling the spade in a threatening manner.
    But Prickle-Head was bigger and quicker. He dodged, pushed and grabbed.
    Biscuits ended up on his bottom.
    Prickle-Head ended up with the spade.
    â€˜Aha! It’s
my
turn to play sandcastles now,’said Prickle-Head. ‘Here’s a nice castle. Ready-made, couldn’t be better. Hey, look at my castle, Rick.’
    There was another thump on the sand behind me. Prickle-Head had reinforcements.
    Pinch-Face came running into my view. He laughed and aimed a kick at my head. He missed – but only just. I tried to dodge and jarred all down my back.
    â€˜Yeah, I don’t like that wet blobby bit on top of the castle. Spoils it, doesn’t it? So shall I pat it smooth, eh?’ Prickle-Head held the spade high and then brought it down hard and fast.
    I screamed.
    Biscuits leapt up and tried to rugby tackle Prickle-Head. The spade swung and landed with a loud bang on the tightly-packed sand.
    â€˜Get
off
, Fatboy,’ said Prickle-Head, and he punched Biscuits in the stomach.
    Biscuits made a sad little ‘oooof’ sound, and sank into the sand like a burst balloon.
    â€˜Now, let’s play Hit the Head,’ said Prickle-Head, grabbing the spade again.
    â€˜Sounds like fun, Boss,’ said Pinch-Face.
    â€˜Look, if you really hit me with that you could easily
kill
me,’ I said desperately.
    â€˜Ooooh! Mummy’s boy is getting reallyscared now. I bet he’s wetting his little panties,’ said Prickle-Head.
    â€˜
Why
do you want to be so hateful? I haven’t done anything to you,’ I said, snuffling hard.
    â€˜It’s fun,’ said Prickle-Head. ‘Right. I’ll take aim.’ He raised the spade high above my head. ‘And then I’m going to go WHACK!’
    â€˜Hey, Boss,’ said Pinch-Face. ‘You’re not
really
going to?’
    â€˜What? Are you chicken or something?’
    â€˜Of course not. It’s just like the cissy said. You could really smash his head in,’ Pinch-Face said. ‘You’re just kidding, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Am I?’ said Prickle-Head. ‘You just wait and see. Right. One, two, three . . .’
    He waved the spade above his head, his face contorted with effort. I stared up into his eyes. I didn’t know if he was really going to do it or not. Maybe he didn’t even know