Forgotten Places

The fading dusk glow dyed the glass of the French windows gold, dust bunnies clung to the bleached curtains. Like the long out-of-survice clock on the wall, everything seems to be frozen in time. So silent. So... still.
I headed straight towards the sliding glass panels and opened them. Immediately, fresh breeze mingled with stale air, the brilliant blue sky clashing with the blistered and cracked walls, the solft golden light lending a sympathetic ear to every forgotten corner.
The walls that might've once been white are coloured biege by time. Lining the walls are bookshelves full of knowledge and adventures lost to the ages, old pages disintegrating to the slightest touch. Laying here and there are boxes and crates full of mysteries that even I dare not explore.
As day slowly turns to night,where everything is a different shade of black, all the dust and cobwebs seems to fade from view, leaving behind only the truth. In day, everything is a work of art, a beautiful illusion fixed in time; but at night, shadows of the past come out to haunt. 'Remember me.' 'Feel with me.'
I wondered about the last person to be here, and the true story of this place. However, as I walked away, I did not look back behind me. I was afraid someone might talk back.
Whereas some things couldn't be forgotten, there are also things that should stay forgotten.
-Amethyst al Heatheritz13
Category:Short Stories