Almond Blossoms

14: the key would no longer open the door

[prompt: the key would no longer open the door]

As a child I had a friend. Her name was Jules. She had bright red hair, a warm smile, flushed cheeks and sparkling green eyes. She wore a grimy navy sailor dress, every time I saw her. Jules lived in the red room and we spent our afternoons there, reading and laughing. It was odd to find the key to the room, but she told me to always wear it around my neck. I did as she said, or father would be angry. I'd never quite understood why Father decided to move back into the old manor at in the woods of Hinterland again, but he was upset every time I asked.

"He's just upset over what happened to mother, not over you," my sister would chide in. "Just let him be, it makes him feel closer to home."

Closer to home. I didn't care much for what home was, but finding someone like Jules, this old and rotten forest didn't seem that lonely to me anymore and soon, I loved it here. Jules was the best friend I'd ever had. Father wouldn't listen to me anymore, he was distant even when I told him about how happy I was to be playing with my friend in the woods.

She was fun, she was eccentric. We used to adopt insects, find herbs and hunt for little forest creatures together in the woods. My sister told me to stop seeing her but oh she was just jealous she didn't have a friend like I did.

Then one lazy afternoon Jules and I went to the creek for a swim. We got in the murky water and swam about, swam far away, told each other the first to reach the other side won the game.

Off I went, gasping and thrashing. I reached the other side, and I looked around. Jules wasn't there.

I thought she'd drowned and I panicked just when I felt a pull at my ankle. I was pulled under and I smiled up at her emerald eyes. I whispered to her in water bubbles and tried to break free. For a moment then I saw the warmth had left her eyes, and her cheeks seemed hollow. The scattered freckles on her porcelain face seemed to deepen into something more crimson, the margins of her face were getting blurry. Her grip was iron tight and something felt wrong.

"Jules?" I tried to speak but she still held me under. I remember the sinking doom I felt then, the beginning of my fear of water. I remember the diffused bars of sunlight at the bottom of the dirty creek, the pain in my chest and the bruises on my legs. I remember how my sister pulled me out of the water, tearing streaming down her face.

And I remember trying the attic key again to the red door for months again. I knew Jules lived in the red room because I heard her cry every night. She was sorry and I knew it. But the stupid key just wouldn't open the door!

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so, hi

I haven't been writing a whole lot [at least, not a lot of poetry] so here's a story from a year ago. I haven't re-read it, figured it wouldn't make a difference but sorry for mistakes, im lazy.

another thing. if y'all got some prompts, please tell me. I like writing short stories on prompts that are a sentence or so long, so if you have anything, please do share!