The Archers, because of what happened, gave her Dad the day off. So, after a quick visit home to change out of their pyjamas, it was decided the family would head into the town and have a look around.

The best way to see Perfect was on foot Edward Archer said. So they left their house and followed the directions into town. Violet couldn’t believe how quickly she’d gotten used to wearing her glasses as if they’d been stuck on her face forever. Everything was crystal clear and, she had to admit, kinda nice.

The road into town was tree lined. The trees were exactly the same distance apart, Violet measured them by counting her footsteps. Every sixty steps there was a tree, except when there was a bench, which happened every one hundred and eighty steps or three trees apart. The sun was shining and the sky, a bright blue, was filled with candyfloss clouds. Everything was neat and tidy. Wild flowers grew in neat bunches and there wasn’t bird poo anywhere though the trees were full of birds. They probably had their own toilet Violet laughed running ahead of her parents. As the family turned a corner about half a mile from their house, the town came into view. Violet stopped.

It was like something from a fairytale. The streets were narrow and cobbled just like the path that led to the Archers shop. The buildings were white and wooden beams ran this way and that across their fronts. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes, some tall and narrow, some squatty and broad. Each one leaned over a little, sheltering the roadways below. It made Perfect look cosy. The town was the prettiest Violet had ever seen. She was afraid she was starting to like the place.

Everybody they passed in the town smiled at the new arrivals as if they were locals. Some even greeted them by name.

“It’s a small town dear, something we’ll have to get used to,” her father said, when her mother questioned the friendliness of the locals.

“Oh I think I’m used to it already Eugene. This place feels like home, it’s what we’ve been searching for. I’m so glad you brought us here.”

What? Her now gushing mother had hated the thoughts of the move. She’d said loads of times that she was only doing it for the sake of her husband. Her change of heart was quick.

“I think I could live here forever,” her mother smiled, grabbing her husband’s hand.

Her Dad beamed and kissed his wife’s forehead.

“What about you Violet?” he asked.

“It’s alright.”

She didn’t want to give in, even answering her Dad was a big step. She’d leave the gooey stuff to her mother. Anyway she hadn’t made up her mind about Perfect yet.

As they walked through the town she began to notice some strange things. The streets were perfectly clean. She hadn’t seen any rubbish, not even a sweet wrapper but there were no bins anywhere. The people were all skinny, there wasn’t a fat one in sight and though they all looked different there was something similar about all of them. It was like a gloss or shine, somehow everyone glowed.

“They’re healthy Violet,” her father said, “The Archers told me this is rated as the healthiest town in all the world.“

Violet believed him, she hadn’t spotted a chippers anywhere and she loved fish and chips on a Sunday evening. She noted that down as another black mark against the town.

As her parents were busy chatting she quietly slipped off the main road down one of the side alleys. She was dying to explore. Normally side roads were dirty and dark and she would never go down one alone but this town was different. She wasn’t scared at all as she walked the spotless alley.

A plaque mounted on the wall of one of the houses caught her eye and she stopped to read it.

Behold The Birth Place of Messrs George, Edward and William Archer, first sons of Perfect.

It must be the Archers she knew, but she’d never heard of William. She moved closer for a look. Something about the house was not right. A hanging basket over the entrance was crooked and the faded blue paint on the door, worn and chipped. She peered through the murky glass window trying to ignore her mother’s warning voice in her head, ‘mind your own business Violet!’ She wouldn’t normally stare into someone else’s home, but by Perfect’s standards this house was derelict. Her nose had just touched the glass when a ghostly face zoomed forward from the darkness inside. She squealed, jumping back.

An old woman stared out through the dirt. Skin sagged from her bones and whispy white hair fell from her balding scalp. Her mouth was gapped in blackened teeth.

Violet tripped over a loose lace knocking off her glasses as she raced from the window. She fumbled onto her knees to search the cobblestone when laughter filled the laneway. The same laughter had followed her since her family’s arrival. She found the frames, shoved them quickly on, scrambled up and sprinted away from the house, not daring to look back.