Over The Rainbow

Angelica swept her brush over the grey concrete. Bright streaks of violet graced the surface, overlapping the blue and indigo just slightly. Angelica frowned as she scrutinized her work. Good enough. All senses alert, Angelica checked the time on the weathered digital alarm clock on sitting on her battered bedside table. Eleven fifty-two. She had eight minutes to cover this up before The Matron begins her daily rounds. Risky.

The paint brushes were cleaned and swept into a box, pieces of wood elevated the threadbare carpet as to prevent the destruction of the paintings. Eventually satisfied, Angelica slipped into her skeleton of a bed and feigned sleep when the Magpie came into the room. That was what she was nicknamed by orphans. Prison. It was impossibly cold, dreary, and everything was completely lifeless.

The next morning, almost non-existent rays of sunlight brightened a part of the floor.
Lovely. Another wonderful morning. Changing into her day clothes, Angelica looked out of her window like she did every morning. And, like every morning, the colours came. A rainbow, a river of colour or a slide. It beckoned to her, calling. Come. And like every morning, Angelica stayed.

She walked to the hall. Old, crumbling, and grey, just like the rest of the building. Lauren and Janice were tormenting the kids, other girls throwing around food, fighting. Typical. In the corner though, a small, petite blond girl with emerald green eyes sat. She was staring into space, her small frame occasionally rocking back and forth. Kennedy. The ‘weird girl’ of the orphanage. A voice roared from the attic. Where Angelica’s room was.

She ran up faster than she ever had. Then her blood ran cold. The carpet had been pushed back, all the spectacular paintings exposed, lovely, and vulnerable. The Magpie was there in the middle, holding Angelica’s paint box. Next to a bucket of weirdly coloured liquid. No. And as the caretaker held her down, screams ripped through her chest as that witch, that Magpie, threw her most prized possessions into the bucket of Hydrofluoric acid.

They left her there on the floor, sobbing into her arms. The world had no colour. It was dark, cold, and empty, every shred of light banished from existence. When Angelica looked back up, Kennedy waited. Her green eyes pierced through her with a penetrating focus.
“You see them too.” She said “They call to me. To us.” Then, Kennedy was gone. For the rest of the week. No one saw her. No one cared.

But one morning, Kennedy was there again. At the edge of Angelica’s bed, holding a bag full of books. Together, they walked to the window. The colours came. Then they jumped. Gathering all the will in their hearts, Angelica and Kennedy jumped onto the swirls of rainbow. I took them away, Showered them with glitter and sparkle. Taking them to a land unlike any other. A land of fairies, and magic, and everything they ever wanted. And there they lived. Forever.

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