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Blue Veins

Her hands glided along the rip. The paper split from the wall, desperately hanging for life. It looked like scaring. Scaring from a forgotten tomorrow, a tomorrow of love that never was. She sighed heavily and carried on down the corridor. After slowly making her way down the hall, she came to a single room. The door was configured of pale blue wood with deep grains of stained purple. The ashy cracks ran in every direction, as if looking for a way to escape. A shiver ran down her spine as she turned the small brass handle.

“Hello? Is anybody home?” Ann felt like a character in a teenage mystery novel. Sticking her head in the door proved to be a problem, for something was blocking its way. Pushing hard wasn’t an option, she didn’t know what was on the other side of the door. Reluctantly, she continued pushing, muting her conscious. A loud crash and bang resulted from one final shove at the door. Ann gave a deep sigh and swung it open. Expecting to she a broken bookshelf or a table or something, she was given a great shock. Her hand flew up to her mouth in horror as she screamed. Her grandfather lay dead.

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