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Strings

It was just meant to be a game; we always played games. The strings were sewn in with such dexterity, it would be fraudulent to deny the allure. His eyes were a spellbinding green, it was wondrous to see the pure fear reflected in them, they looked exceptional in the glass jar. It was a magnificent mess, my thirst was quenched. He always spoke of how one day I would obtain a heartbeat: perhaps now I could have his. Serenity, I pulled the strings, the arms moved in sync, my heart sang in euphoria, I was a real boy.

by Hannah Hillier (15)
Stratford-upon-Avon School, Stratford-upon-Avon


Competition - Grim Tales

Copyright remains with the author.