Violet Ink, Ramisa R [finding audrey txt] 📗

approximately ten lockers. They are small, torn and rusted in some areas. Cobwebs hang onto them like accessories. I can see why Flynn might find an interest in these lockers; they are exactly like his own house.

According to the instructions on the tag, I find a locker with the number “2” written in big, bold writing. My key fits into the lock perfectly. I am more unsettled by Flynn’s uncanny knowledge of those around him. As I twist it, anticipation builds up within me –along with a pre-satisfaction, a bubbling excitement of finally unravelling a mystery.

Inside, there is a single piece of paper. It’s slightly rumpled and contains a horrible mixture of colours. What is this? I think, turning the paper over and examining it. My eyes widen. It’s a drawing by a child, a terribly drawn picture with two stick-figures; one standing upright, and the other lying on the floor, little crosses acting as eyes. Splashes of unevenly spread red cover the ground. Blood.

“She’s awfully odd,” Mum says to Dad, holding my hand. I hear her every word, even though I’m barely at her waist. “I’ve never met anybody who doesn’t have quirks, but she’s so…”

“Different.”

“I was going to say strange.” She gives me a wide, condescending smile as I hand a crayon to her. Then she turns back to her husband, still miserably bad at whispering. “They were asking students what they wanted to be. All the students said normal things –doctors, astronauts, detectives, nurses– but she… she drew this.”

My father doesn’t say anything. He keeps walking. And just when I think the conversation has ended, that he won’t contribute anything more, he says:

“She won’t ever be normal; nobody would be, with a past like hers.” He reaches over to ruffles my hair. “But we love her anyway.”

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Publication Date: 09-09-2013

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