The racket that whatever had been rustling in the trash was starting to get on its nerves. Hadn't the little creatures here learned that this territory did not belong to them? It was tempted to scare the living daylights out of them. Whether rat or bird, the boggart could have easily morphed itself into a cat and chase after them for some distance before retrieving back into its dark bin. It had sensed their simple fear many times before.

But there was a new fear in the air that it could sense. A little girl was approaching, unknowingly, toward its bin. Her fear was easy to morph into, for it was easy to tap into the innocent girl's mind to retrieve it. If the girl thought that the back alley was something to be frightened of, then her motivational self-talk would do her no good in preparing her for what was to come.

Suddenly the bin that the boggart had found refuge in tipped over and started rolling its way toward the girl's feet. It was enough to keep the girl distracted while the boggart snuck in the dark space between two of the shops and took on a new shape. It stood there, waiting...