The girl stands observing the velvet green curtains this was where her mum last stood looking out into the rainbow garden. Now so dull and empty; no rainbow colours anymore. She rubbed her cold, hard white fingers over the orange rusty key, wondering what it unlocked: not the cobwebbed kitchen window; not the dusty jewellery box; where? Where?
Her mum gave her this key before it happened. She never had the chance to say what it unlocked.
Suddenly blood cascaded from her finger, staining the sharp edged metal of the key. The trickle of blood formed the only colour left in the room: a bluebell, violet colour.
By Chelsea Hall, Year 8, Greendown School
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