I'm Not Scared by Niccolò Ammaniti

the bed with you.’
    She breathed hard. ‘There’s not enough room. You’re too big.’
    â€˜Mama, please. I’ll curl up in the corner. I’ll make myself really small.’
    â€˜I said no.’
    â€˜Please,’ I implored her. ‘Please. I’ll be good. You’ll see.’
    â€˜Stop it.’ She stood me up and looked me in the eyes. ‘Michele, I just don’t know what to do with you. Why do you never do as you’re told? I can’t stand it any more. We’ve got so many problems and now you start. You don’t understand. Please …’
    I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to. I don’t want to sleep with that man. I’m not going to.’
    She took the pillowcase off the pillow. ‘That’s how things are. If you don’t like it, tell your father.’
    â€˜But he’ll take me away …’
    Mama stopped making the bed and turned. ‘What did you say? Say that again.’
    I whispered. ‘He’ll take me away …’
    She peered at me with her black eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
    â€˜You want him to take me away … You hate me. You’re nasty. You and papa hate me. I know you do.’
    â€˜Who tells you such things?’ She grabbed me by the arm but I wriggled free and fled.
    I was running downstairs and I could hear her calling me.
    â€˜Michele! Michele! Come back here!’
    â€˜I’m not sleeping with him. No, I’m not sleeping with that man.’
    I ran off to the stream and climbed up the carob.
    I would never sleep with that old man. He had taken Filippo. And as soon as I went to sleep he would take me too. He would put me in a sack and whisk me off.
    And then he would cut off my ears.
    Was it possible to live without ears? Wouldn’t you die? Iwas very attached to my ears. Papa and the old man must have already cut Filippo’s off. While I was up in my tree, he, in his hole, was earless.
    I wondered if they had bandaged up his head?
    I must go. And I must tell him about his mother, that she still loved him and that she had said so on television, so everybody knew it.
    But I was scared. What if I found papa and the old man at the house?
    I looked at the horizon. The sky was flat and grey and weighed down on the fields of wheat. The hill was over there, gigantic, veiled by the heat.
    If I’m careful they won’t see me, I said to myself.
    â€˜O partisan, take me away, for they have to bury me. O partisan, take me away. O bella ciao ciao ciao .’ I heard a voice singing.
    I looked down. Barbara Mura was dragging Togo along, she had tied some string round his neck and was pulling him towards the water. ‘Now mama’s going to give you a little bath. You’ll be all clean. Are you pleased? Of course you’re pleased.’ But Togo didn’t look pleased. Rump on the ground, he was digging in his paws and shaking his head, trying to get free of the noose. ‘You’ll look lovely. And I’ll take you to Lucignano. We’ll go and have an ice-cream and I’ll buy you a lead.’ She grabbed him, kissed him, slipped off her sandals, took a couple of steps into the bog and ducked him in that stinking slime.
    Togo squirmed but Barbara held him fast by his scruff and his collar. She pushed him under. I saw him disappear in the mud.
    She started singing again. ‘One fine morning I woke early. O bella ciao! Bella ciao! Bella ciao ciao ciao! ’
    She didn’t pull him out again.
    She wanted to kill him.
    I shouted. ‘What are you doing? Let him go!’
    Barbara gave a start and nearly fell in the water. She released the dog, who resurfaced and struggled to the bank.
    With one jump I got down from the tree.
    â€˜What are you doing here?’ Barbara asked me testily.
    â€˜What were you doing?’
    â€˜Nothing. I was washing him.’
    â€˜No you weren’t. You wanted to kill him.’
    â€˜No I