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The Spindle

The door swings open, I'm startled, a human is here. I haven't seen anyone in sixteen years and I'm ready, ready to be used again and feel the wool cocoon my body. She slowly walks over to me, her eyes glazed and lost, but her body determined. Her arm gracefully outstretches and her index finger comes ever closer. The heat of her finger consumes me as I pierce the soft fresh skin. A warm, deep red blood surrounds me and I'm drowning, deeper and deeper. I hear her painful screech, but I can't see anything. Thud.

by Libby Bradshaw (12)
Camden School For Girls, London

Competition - Grim Tales

Copyright remains with the author.