"So, what do we do now?", Coraline asked her companion.

"What do you mean? You came here, lied about the invitation and now you want me to come along with an idea about what to do next? Shouldn't you say at least 'I'm sorry for dragging you into trouble, Wybie?'"

"Oh, don't be such a cry - baby! Be happy I'm here!"

Somehow his cheeks got a little redder, Coraline thought. But she dropped that thought when she looked up the stairs into the upper rooms of the big old house.

"Let's explore the loft!"

A smile crept upon the still red face of Wybie. His eyes were shining with excitement. Never ever had someone had the guts to explore the dark, dusty, with many disgusting little animals filled loft with him. And he loved this place. Yes, it was a little creepy, but it was silent. He could hide there when he needed some minutes just for himself and there were so many things hidden. Long lost history! He hid himself so often, sometimes just to watch the little dust particles float in the air, lightened by the setting, golden sun in the evening that came through the little window in the middle of the roof.

He couldn't wait any longer to show his best friend his beloved, hidden place, so he said 'Ok', grabbed Coralines slender wrist and dragged her all the way up to the old, wooden door that led up to the loft.

"There it is!", he stated proudly, "But beware! Your clothes might get a little dirty."

Now, what else?

Oh! Of Course!

Marshmallows.

No one with a working mind would go camping without marshmallows and Wybie knew how much Coraline loved them. But where the hell were his marshmallows? He had stuffed them into one of his drawers of his desk, but now they were gone.

‘Oh no! Gramma!’, he thought and then he sighed heavily. This was Mission Impossible, because his grandmother must have had stuffed his marshmallows into the cupboard in the kitchen and that was the one and only room his grandmother almost always was.

And there he was going to get them anyway.

What was wrong with him?

She would kill him for wanting something sugary before dinner, she definitely was. And when she found out about the curtain she would kill him again right after she had killed him the first time.

To his luck his grandmother was sleeping.

‘Just be quiet!’, he told himself again and again. When he stood in front of the cupboard in the kitchen he realized there was another problem: he was too small! So he got himself a chair and climbed onto it, then he reached for the doorknob and when he opened it… everything fell on his head and because of the shock he stumbled backwards and fell hard on the ground.

“Ouch! Damn it!”, Wybie whined, rubbing his head and everything else that hurt.

“Wybourne?”

DAMN TO THE HEAVENS!