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I know it’s only been three weeks but I saw evil knocked on our doorstep by the time she arrived.

Since we’ve been living in this orphanage all our lives, new arrivals like her aren’t a huge shock among my thirty-two inmates. Yes, that’s how we jokingly call each other.

However, this girl, with a honey-gold braided hair, pale skin, and freckles across her nose, was different. I heard from the nuns that her mother, the woman who was with her, didn’t want her anymore. She cried on her first day, all day and night. And as always, we gave new inmates their space until they’re ready.

The next day, she was quiet. She never talked. Then bad things started happening. Whenever someone’s happy, they’re bound to meet their gloom the day after— through a headless doll, broken crayons, torn papers, and lost toys.

I knew it was her. I’m certain. But most of us fear her silence, her menacing green eyes. She would stand by the window, staring blankly with an ominous smile and no one would have the guts to face her.

We need proof.

So, until I have our evidence, I, Matthew Burton, will be her shadow.

Word Count: 200


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. The photo prompt reminds me of Ransom Riggs‘ Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. I haven’t read the book yet, I’m too coward (have you seen the cover and the scans?). BUT I’m working on finding the courage to take the book from the shelf and buy it at once. Soon, maybe? 😉

This week’s prompt is: “Nothing is ever as easy as it…”

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