Whistler's Wood

Once upon a time there was a girl, she was a normal girl in most ways. Not especially strong, or brave or clever (though she certainly thought she was especially clever.)

No this was an ordinary un-special girl.

Except she was afraid.

While the girls played or chattered in groups, she hid in corners. While the boys played loud games, and pushed each other she flinched and hid behind trees.

Her teachers were concerned and spoke to the girl's parents. Her father told her to cheer up and her mother sighed and said "Oh Rose." (which was the girls name) in a disappointed sigh.
Rose sat on her bed, looking at her hands twisted together in her lap. She couldn't explain why she was afraid because they wouldn't believe her. They refused to see what she saw, refused to believe what she told them. She was afraid, because no one believed her.

She was afraid and she was angry.

That summer. Rose was spending her summer mostly on her back porch in the shade. A tall cold glass of lemonade sat on the table next to her as she laid back in the old padded chair, book in hand. Her mother would come out about once an hour to admonish her for not going out and playing with the other kids but other than that she was free from any interruptions and was allowed to bury herself in her book. She kept her shoulder length dirty blonde hair tied up in ponytail and a packet of sweets in the pockets on the skirt of her light summer dress, content in her quiet summer.

It wasn't that Rose didn't want friends, it's just that other children made her nervous. Especially in groups and she had a tendency to say and do the wrong thing and get them cross with her.

Books were safe, they let her imagine a world where she was the heroine, confident brave and in complete control. Books didn't judge or make her feel small or betray her, books were easy friends. She loved them all but in particular fantasy novels. Anything with magic or dragons captivated her. Real life was confusing and stressful and frightening and, in Rose's mind, something to be shunned.

Rose had just finished a book of and was starring off into space as she tried to decide what the read next. When something glinting in the sun caught her eye. It was coming from the base of the big oak tree, something shining in the grass. Curious she investigated to find a key. It was silver in colour and old fashioned looking. All twisty and with large teeth.  She picked it up puzzling over it when she became aware she was being watched. She looked up to find a huge crow watching her from the grass.

"Oh," she said "Is this yours? Only I thought it was magpies who likes shiny things."

"It belongs in Whistling wood." the crow croaked. Rose took a step back in shock.

"What?" she whispered, suddenly frightened.

"Not yours!" the crow shrieked before flying right at Rose's face. Its black wings beating against her face and arms and claws scratching as she threw up her hands and ran shrieking into the house, frightened.

She thought it was screaming "Thief!" as she felt it tearing at her. She threw herself through the screen door kicking it closed behind her. She heard the bird throw itself against the door, scratching at the metal screen.  She turned and looked at it, blood dripping down her arms. The crow stilled, looked at her for a moment and flew off.

She made it all the way to her room before she realised she was holding the key so hard it was hurting her hand.

Rose hadn't been exactly been surprised to find the key or that the crow had talked. She had read enough fantasy novels to expect it and to find that it was narratively satisfying to her. She was however perturbed to find she had no idea what the key was for. As far as she was aware there wasn't anything mysterious or hidden in her house at all. Continuing on with what she would expect if this was a novel she put the key on a chain and hung it around her neck, cleaned up the scratches on her hands and arms and then went to ask her mother.