Key_to_a_Fortune

“Right Mum, I’ll see you later!” Rose yelled impatiently. Not hanging around for a reply, she swiftly headed out the door, breaking into a run at the first glimpse of that glorious golden sand. The blue, foamy waves were shining as they crashed and collided with the cold, angry rocks, wrestling for their territory. The roaring of the waves was music to her ears. The morning sun shone, so the soft sand seemed to sparkle. Rose loved the feeling of it between her toes as she strolled along the beach, occasionally feeling an icy tingle on her feet as the tide rolled in. Nestled between the jagged rocks and caves was Rose’s favourite spot. The lagoon was well hidden beneath the overflow of green. The sun crept in through the trees giving it a suffused glow, and Rose found herself wondering why she was the only one who had came across this little slice of heaven, knowing it was unusual for the normally gloomy Scotland. There was a blissful silence, only interrupted by the slight trickling provided by a waterfall, of the type only seen in movies. Rose lay down, basking in that warm feeling of contentment and serenity, when a frown appeared upon her face… Rose had realised she couldn’t feel the delicate depth of the sand. It was hard. And solid. Rose’s brow creased and lines developed on her forehead. Perplexed, she began to brush away the sand, a rigid, leather-bound object emerging. Pulling it out, Rose realised it was a briefcase. A locked briefcase. She fumbled around with the lock, trying to prise it open, quickly realising she had no hope. Looking around, Rose knew finding a tiny key was bordering on the impossible. It would be her last resort. With no key in sight, Rose debated what to do. Not thinking about the consequences, Rose grabbed the briefcase and trudged back to her house, allowing her mind to wonder what could actually be in the briefcase… Money and treasure immediately popped into Rose’s head. She thought of all the wonderful things she could do with wads of cash. She imagined herself lying in the Caribbean, fanning herself with money. She could fly to New York, and shop until she physically dropped. Oh, there were countless possibilities. “What’s that you’ve got there, Rose'” Her mum’s badgering voice pulled her back down to the dim, grey reality. “Oh, this old thing'” Rose tried to sound nonchalant, “It’s nothing really.” She hurried off to her bedroom, hoping not to have aroused any suspicion. She had to get this briefcase open. She didn’t care how, but she couldn’t leave it knowing there could be a fortune in there. Rose tried everything she could think of; attacking it with scissors, even a knife. But it was to no avail, it wouldn’t budge. Rose drifted off to sleep that night dreaming of fame and fortune, knowing that the next day would be spent down at the lagoon searching mercilessly for the key. As the hazy, orange sun began to rise, Rose was already crawling around in the sand. She was resting her hopes on noticing a miniscule metallic glimmer in the sand, while getting all the more anxious because her summer holidays were over in just three days. That was when she saw it. There was something silver sticking out of the sand. Rushing over, her heart was pounding. It was a bottle top. After all that, Rose felt like she had had her heart ripped out of her chest. Day Three; as Rose was now calling it. This was a mission and she was running out of time. Two days left, so it was now or never. Well, that was what she told herself as she hurried out of her mum’s shop. As she ran across the road, eager not to waste a single minute, Rose came to an abrupt halt. There was a tiny, copper key lying on the pavement. One glance was enough to send Rose’s brain into an excited frenzy. She grabbed the key and sprinted back over the road, and was in her room pulling out the briefcase, before she could actually think. Then came the overwhelming recognition of what she was actually doing. Rose knew it wasn’t right, but her curiosity was too much. Then again, curiosity killed the cat. When her long fingers trembling, Rose slotted the key into the lock and timidly turned it. The lock clicked open and Rose breathed a slight sigh of relief. This was it, she told herself, she would open it at the count of five. One…two…three…four… “Rose! Are you okay up there'” “Yes Mum!” Rose was miffed to say the least. Mums have a tendency to interrupt at the most inconvenient times, so she took the briefcase over the road, to the beach, to open it. This was where her life could change forever, Rose told herself. And with that she whipped open the briefcase. A laugh escaped her full, pink lips. It was a load of paper. No, make that junk. They looked very old and crumpled, maybe some letters, but Rose didn’t even bother to read them, she didn’t care. All she could think was that she had wasted her last days of the summer holidays on a stupid briefcase. Glancing around, there was nobody on the beach for miles so Rose decided that what started here should end here. She took one big, deep breath and chucked the briefcase into the wide, open sea and stood to watch it disappear, drowning in blue. Later that evening, Rose noticed some familiar looking documents on Flog It. “What are they, Mum'” “They’re bank drafts dear, worth millions.”