The Library of Forgotten Lives

In the heart of the abandoned forest on the card stands a library that no one remembers. There are no ways. There were no signs. But on a night when the moon was full and it was unusual for how thick mist was pushed over the world, a lost soul stumbled upon the entrance to her vineyard, pulled by the soft golden light of an old lantern above the door. Erila was such a soul. 17, immersed in an unexpected storm, tore her backpack, her phone had been dead for a long time. It was too far from the road. She didn't escape the weather - she ran from the weight of silence at home, from the last words she said to her father, and no longer recognized by her own version. The sparkle of the lantern felt like an invitation. She entered. Doors rarely heard like a whisper. The air inside was warm, with aged paper scent that made me feel a bit nostalgic, like forgotten babysitters and the sides of old diaries. The building looked small from the outside, but the interior was endlessly stretched. The bookshelves were grabbed in the shade and the room was pulsating in a quiet sum. Each shelf was not marked according to genre, but was marked by emotion. "Fear." "Hope." "Betrayal." "Love." "reute." 's fingers tremble as he grabbed the book under "Regret." There was no title or author. Only worn leather covers. You opened it. On the first page, the words were in the delicate manuscript: "Elila Ainsley, 7 years - The day she did not open the door for a crying girl." She was frozen. Pages began to write themselves, and ink flowed like thoughts. "You asked yourself that you were afraid. But some of you didn't want to share your toys. The next day, the girl left. You never saw her again. " She let go of the book. It quietly landed on her feet. They'll see him hesitate before he goes out. You might have stopped him. " I sob about my neck. She ran and turned the corner in a maze of memories and heartbeat. She whispered, chasing the voice from the forgotten chapter. , and voice - how old and strange lovely stuffed the room. "Welcome, Elira" They stopped. "Where am I?" she asked barely in a whisper. "You are the forgotten life of the library. A place where you wait for the lost stories to be remembered. Most of them arrive by mistake. Only a few are the same." She looked around. Books... They were stories. They were true. choice. Unrecorded pass. My memories were suppressed. "Why am I?" she asked. "The future aspects are still empty as your story isn't over." The shelves began to move, and eventually shared a long walk with the bass. On top of it was a book, shining quietly, her name was engraved in gold on the cover. You opened it. Sky. Then the letter slowly appeared: "Today she decided to listen. Today she decided not to run." The next page was still empty. hang on. Tears are now free. "Can I choose what happens next?" she asked. "You've always done it." It went from the library to the forest that was no longer scary. The storm passed, and the moonlight danced on the wet leaves. Her phone was bustling in her pocket - somehow again. Message illuminated on the screen:"