Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 15

Three entries last week. I'm wondering if we are entering a dip. Summer is coming and people are getting busy. It won't be long before my children will be on school holiday and writing time will get tight.

This week's photo prompt is actually an advert on Etsy. Antique keys seem to be popular. I have always been fascinated by keys and doors - and the metaphorical meaning of both.

Looking forward to seeing what this might inspire.


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Hidden

Hannah rolled the key between her thumb and forefinger, watching it glint in the evening light coming in through the window. She loved its ornate design; they didn’t make keys like that anymore, but then they didn’t make houses like this anymore with secret backrooms and passageways leading to dark dank corners underground. 

Her parents finding this place had been a blessing, and her finding the secret door had been a revelation – although the key had been the key.

She chuckled to herself at the pun, but it was true: had she not spotted it under the stairs, hanging in a dusty corner when she'd been exploring, she would never have known there was a secret door to find - and then she wouldn’t have found anything to hide behind it.

She smiled to herself. How long could keep it hidden was the big question – or should she say ‘him’, keep ‘him’ hidden. She let out another chuckle and popped the key into her pocket as sat back grinning.

They were looking for him; they had been for two days now. She couldn’t help the thrill it gave her seeing everyone so distraught, especially her mother. All the angst and guilt that came out and all the additional hugs and comfort they gave her. She struggled with liking it and resenting it, but that was their fault too. If he hadn’t been the one given all the attention all the time none of this would have happened.

Her face changed to an angry scowl, although it froze at the thought of what would happen when they did finally find him. She could see her mother rejecting her then, maybe even ejecting her too – putting her in some kind of home.

It’s why she had to draw this out as long as possible, milk as much from it now as she could, because once they found his body it would all be over.

She pulled the key out again and turned it over in her hand. Its beauty turned sinister as she looked at it. Maybe its discovery hadn’t been as good as she had first thought then.