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"Words, in my not-so-humble opinion, are our most inexhaustible source of magic" ~ Albus Dumbledore
Absolute nerd | 100% cat person | Ravenclaw | ISFJ

Study hard... dream big... live well...

[Joined March 2020]

Message from Writer

Every word you write is a little fragment of you.
Each shard of your soul tells a story, the story of you, of your inner thoughts and deepest desires, a tiny nugget of raw human emotion.
And every one is worthwhile.
Every word makes the world a better place.

Keep writing; what you say makes a difference :)

- As a general rule, I look through the profiles of everyone who likes/comments/reviews my pieces, just because I might not get to read some amazing stuff otherwise :) -

Behind the Door [a working title] - Extract One

March 30, 2020


“Do not enter under any circumstances. Girls caught breaking the rule will be severely reprimanded.”

It was Friday afternoon, and it was getting late. I was alone, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the furthest corner of the school library. Well, it was more of a gothic castle than a school, full of dark passageways and creepy statues. Like any self-respecting eleven-year-old, I’d begun exploring the minute I arrived nearly six years ago, so by now I had the entire school neatly mapped out - except one place: behind this door. I’d been sat there, staring at it, for what must have been an hour when I was interrupted by Zoe, my best - and only - friend.
“There you are - I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she said, exasperation in her voice, then, noticing where we were, added, “Seriously, what is your obsession with that door?”
“Haven’t you ever wondered what’s behind it? Why we’re not allowed there? Come on, it’s gotta be exciting - or dangerous - otherwise there wouldn’t be a sign like that on it. Isn’t there just one tiny part of you that needs to know?”
“Uhh… nope.” 
“Honestly, you’re such a party pooper. Aren’t you curious?”
“You are having some weird parties, my friend. Just you and the door - if you spent any more time together, you might as well be married!” 
I rolled my eyes, laughing at her creative insults, and pulled myself off the floor. Gathering my books, I turned to face her. 
“I assume you wanted something?”
“Oh, yeah. Dinner. Now. Hurry up.”

Later that night, Zoe and I were in our dormitory, the room that had been our home for so long. The walls had been plain and whitewashed until we got there - now they were covered in memories: scribbles of long-lost secrets, left as reminders of late-night conversations, photos, lists and plans. Our desks were stacked high with books and schoolwork, and our beds covered in cushions and blankets, soft and comfortable after a long day. I pulled on my pyjamas and wrestled to brush my hair out of its school-standard braids. 
“You should just do it,” Zoe muttered, almost to herself, into the silence. 
“Ow!” My hairbrush caught on a knot, and I winced in pain. “What do you mean?” I said to her as she lay on the bed next to me. 
“The door. Just go through it.”
I scoffed. “No way.”
“Why not? No one ever goes that far into the library anyway; they’d never notice. Plus, it’d answer that endless list of questions you have.”
She was still spread out on top of her covers, unmoving, gazing at the ceiling. I could tell that she thought the solution was obvious. 
“It’s not as simple as that. They might have cameras - I could get expelled! Anyway, it’s probably locked.”
“Number one - this place is stuck in the 17th century. They don’t have cameras. Number two - ‘severely reprimanded’ is vague, let’s be honest. You might get detention: they just couldn’t expel you. You’re a straight A student. If you left, the school’s average would drop about three grades.”
“Oh, ha ha. You know that’s not true.” She rolled over and raised her eyebrows, as if to object. “You also haven’t solved the locked door situation.”
“Pssh - we can pick it,” was her reply, nonchalant as ever, as she climbed underneath the layers of blankets. 
“I’m not doing it.”
“If you say so…” Zoe turned over and I soon heard her heavy breaths. I, on the other hand, couldn’t get to sleep. 

Yes, I’d been thinking about that door since I found it in my first term here. And Zoe was right - no-one else ever ventured that deep into the library; I wouldn’t be seen, or missed… but no, I couldn’t really do it… could I?


See History

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  • ElsaRee

    Amazing job!

    7 months ago
  • Juniper

    This is really cool!!! I’m intrigued as to what is behind the door!!!

    7 months ago
  • Dmoral

    word count: 646 words
    i like it! i'll get on that review right away--many thanks

    7 months ago
  • ect.13

    Thank you so much! Really appreciated :)

    7 months ago
  • AJ - Izzy

    One review, submitted for this piece :)

    7 months ago