Whispers from the Abandoned

Whispers from the Abandoned

Whispers from the Abandoned is a fictional story written by our Author Rahul.

It was a summer evening in the year 2023. I was on my tour to explore the hidden jewels in Historical places and forgotten homes. As I was roaming, I came across a house that was located on the outskirts of Brindlemark town. It was surrounded by climbers and grasses all over it. I went and the door creaked open, revealing a long-forgotten room. Dust swirled in the faint light that filtered through the grimy windows, illuminating a space that seemed frozen in time. Cobwebs clung to the chandelier, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. In the center of the room, a beautifully crafted wooden desk sat, adorned with intricate carvings and a single, leather-bound book.

As I stepped inside the room, I noticed a faint scent of old books and a hint of vanilla. The air was heavy with the silence of years. I ran my finger over the desk, leaving a trail in the dust. The book seemed to be calling to me, and I carefully opened its cover, revealing yellowed pages beautifully carved with handwritten notes.

The writing was elegant, with flourishes and curlicues that danced across the page. As I turned the pages, I discovered that it was a journal, written by a woman named Lyra Grey. Her words spoke of love, loss, and longing, of dreams and desires. As I proceeded through the journal, I was awestruck to know that both Lyra’s husband and Son became victims of racial riots that went on for days in the 20th century. Books were her only army to fight the war against the loneliness she was going through. I felt a connection to her as if she had written these words just for me..

As I delved deeper into the journal I found a hidden compartment in the desk drawer. Inside, a small key and a note that read: “For the curious, the door to the garden is waiting.” I searched the room, and my eyes landed on a small door hidden behind a tapestry. The key fit perfectly, and the door creaked open, revealing a beautiful, overgrown garden.

The garden was a tangle of vines and flowers, with a small pond in the center. A fountain trickled water, creating a soothing melody. I sat on a nearby bench, feeling the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze rustling my hair. I knew that Lyra had sat here, too, and that she had left this room and its secrets for me to discover.

As I sat there, surrounded by the beauty of the forgotten room and garden, I felt a sense of peace and connection to the past. I knew that I would return to this place to uncover more secrets and to keep Lyra’s memories alive. The door creaked shut behind me, but I knew that it would always be open, waiting for me to return.

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More Stories by the Author:

A Friday To Be Remembered

Allow me to introduce myself as an aspiring writer with a passion for inspiring individuals in both their personal and professional journeys. My aim is to shed light on the essence of life, emphasizing the significance of relationships and fostering personal growth. Through my writing, which encompasses small quotes, short poems, and articles, I strive to empower others to navigate life's complexities with clarity and purpose.

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