Wishing Over the Rainbow
an excerpt

Prologue
The stairs leading to the attic cascaded downwards like a spiral snake, turning deeper into the darkness. It was cool down there, especially around her feet. The wind seemed to circulate around her legs and twirl in the air, and then disappear. She unlocked the wooden door, grasped the doorknob in her hands firmly – it felt like ice – and shivered, as she descended into the darkness.
Her heart nearly stopped as the cold rushed in like wild fire, instantly freezing her insides. Her first instinct was to shut the door and get the hell out of that dark, flimsy place, but courage permitted her to step into the forlorn room with a cowardly heart.
Her footsteps echoed in the large room; something which she was not entirely pleased of. She followed the little glint of light from above the stairs – when suddenly there was a great bang and the door slammed shut.
She quickly ran her fingers over the wall and groped for the switch. She flipped it on, and sighed deeply, breathing in and out in an erratic rhythm. The pale, yellowish light spilling from the faint, dangling light bulb illuminated the dirty, cracked ceiling. It swayed back and forth dangerously, like a monkey on a swing. Blotches of light swung to the left and to the right, to everywhere and nowhere. The dusty shelves were lit upon, and thick blanket of dust glittered like a layer of frost. The moth-eaten chair which the family had moved here for years past stood on the floor, abandoned and lonely. Broken toys, paint tools, and empty paint buckets lay scattered all around the room. Pieces of canvas and a large tin can full of paintbrushes stood on an isolated corner. All objects in the room were shunned away from one another, only relying on the walls or broken chairs.
Under the shelf was a box made out of cardboard. It was of a yellow hue, looking so weak and feeble that the paper seemed to be kneeling under the weight of the objects inside. She padded her feet to the box, her heart hammering fast against her ribcage in anticipation, and crouched down right next to it.
Cautiously, she lifted up the cover and immediately a pungent smell of archaic scrolls stung her nose. She pinched her nose and fumbled in the box, digging deep down with her eyes closed. She once felt a slimy substance which she didn’t dare look at; she simply fidgeted a little and continued her search.
After a few minutes, her knees had gone numb and the items had previously withdrawn lay all around her in a careless fashion. Finally her eyes snapped open when her hands touched a familiar surface – and her heart instantly fluttered in glee.
She brought the book up to a better light, and, leaving all the items on the floor, she wrapped her arms around the book and hugged it to her bosom. A little smile played along her lips, and at once her steps grew considerably lighter and her heart had shed her burden.
The book’s title, written in faint, gold letters, glimmered in the light. It was neither seen nor heard of until the fatal night, years later, when all had changed and the attic was no longer her refuge…