Ghost City
Every day I lingered on the threshold of deserted avenues, watching the city fade like a dying ember.
Someone had bought the place, yet the new owner kept his plans hidden—chaos ruled the streets, people fled their homes in haste, leaving behind years of forgotten happiness. I had heard of ghost towns, but I never wanted to become a part of one.
The House That Lives
Amid the ruins stood an old house. Its boards were gnawed by time, but the air trembled with an unfathomable, almost living presence.
Each time I tried to understand why the house seemed joyous, it only deepened my doubt.
“If everyone has left, why does it rejoice?”
No answer came.
Lilian
One bright flash from an ajar door caught my eye. Inside, a girl with vivid red hair and brown eyes sat like an angel fallen from the heavens. Her name was Lilian.
She spent hours at an ancient typewriter, decorating the house with paintings forgotten by time. One canvas especially unsettled me: a blazing sun, tongues of fire, and at its centre—a red‑haired girl weeping. The picture did not belong to her collection; she had found it in the attic, among the junk of former occupants.
Every night I reached for her delicate skin, but she merely awoke, rubbing sleepy eyes, and slipped back into sleep. The fear of a new day turned into phobia—I wanted to warn her, yet I was powerless.
The Flame in the Barn
That day the sky was heavy with gloom, and Lilian played Beethoven’s Sonata. The music sounded like a farewell.
She rose and walked toward the old barn, where she had long planned to tidy the clutter. I could only whisper a single word:
“Good‑bye.”
Lilian halted, turned, and met my gaze. In her eyes I saw a final look, full of sorrow and…
“News bulletin for the past 24 hours”
18:58 — renowned composer‑author Lilian Grey perished in the old barn due to faulty wiring. Some witnesses reported hearing a soft sob inside the house.
Finale
What can an observer do? Nothing, except stand aside and watch the protagonist vanish. As a reader I become attached to the characters, only to confront the truth I sensed from the start.
The echo of Max’s bright laughter and Lilian’s last farewell sonata will forever linger in my soul, reduced to a cold whisper within the empty house’s walls.
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