The Forgotten Garden

Lena had always been drawn to old, forgotten places. As a child, she would wander through abandoned buildings, her imagination turning crumbling walls into castles and broken windows into portals to other worlds. So when she inherited her great-aunt Edna's estate, a sprawling manor on the edge of a small town, she was thrilled.

The townspeople spoke of the manor with a mix of reverence and fear. It had been abandoned for years, ever since Edna passed away, and the garden at the back was rumored to be haunted. But Lena didn't believe in ghosts. To her, the stories only added to the allure.

The day she arrived, the house was just as she had imagined—grand yet worn, with ivy creeping up the walls and paint peeling from the shutters. The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss, and the old oak trees that lined the driveway seemed to whisper secrets as the wind rustled through their leaves.

Lena spent the first few days exploring the house, discovering hidden rooms and forgotten trinkets. But it was the garden that captivated her most. It was overgrown and wild, with tangled vines and towering weeds, but beneath the chaos, Lena could see the remnants of something beautiful—a stone pathway, a rusted fountain, and the crumbling arches of what had once been a grand gazebo.

Determined to restore the garden to its former glory, Lena began clearing the brush and cutting back the vines. Each day, she uncovered more of the garden's past—delicate rose bushes buried under years of neglect, statues covered in moss, and a small pond that had long since dried up.

As she worked, Lena felt a strange sense of familiarity, as if she had been there before. She chalked it up to the stories she had heard as a child, tales of Edna’s love for the garden and the mysterious man who had once tended it. The man was said to have vanished without a trace, leaving Edna heartbroken and the garden to wither away.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Lena uncovered a hidden path leading to the back of the garden. The path was lined with ancient stone steps, worn smooth by time. At the end of the path stood a small, weathered door set into the side of a hill, almost completely hidden by ivy.

Curiosity piqued, Lena pushed the door open. Inside, she found a small, dimly lit room. The air was cool and damp, and the scent of earth and decay was stronger here. In the center of the room stood a wooden table, covered in dust. On it lay a single, faded photograph.

Lena picked up the photo, wiping away the dust to reveal the image of a young woman standing in the garden. She was beautiful, with dark hair and bright, laughing eyes. But it was the man standing beside her that caught Lena’s breath. He was tall, with strong features and a gentle smile. There was something achingly familiar about him, something that tugged at the edges of Lena’s memory.

As she stared at the photo, a chill ran down her spine. She had seen this man before—in her dreams, in fleeting glimpses as she worked in the garden. But that was impossible. He was just a figment of her imagination, a shadow from a story she had heard long ago.

But the more Lena thought about it, the more she realized that the garden had always felt like a part of her, as if it had been waiting for her to return. And now, standing in this forgotten room, she understood why.

The man in the photo was her great-aunt Edna’s lost love—the gardener who had disappeared all those years ago. And Lena, in some strange, inexplicable way, was connected to him, to this garden, to the life that had been left behind.

With a shiver, Lena placed the photo back on the table. She knew she had to leave, to walk away from the garden and the secrets it held. But as she turned to go, she felt a hand brush against hers, warm and real.

The garden had waited long enough. And now, so had she.