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Echoes From The Past

Short story By: Hanna Emelie
Flash fiction

The town has been deserted for a long time. All that's left are echoes from what once were. I find myself in this dark place, wondering where I belong.

Submitted:Dec 12, 2013    Reads: 16    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

It's so quiet. All that can be heard are the echoes of my steps, the thumping of my heart and the creaking sound of old wood. Apart from a couple of big ravens, staring silently at me from the top of a tree, I am alone.

A cold blast of wind hits me from behind and sends a shiver down my spine. It's like the city is trying to push me out of there. I know I shouldn't be here. I am an unwelcome guest, but I hope that the ghosts from the past will show me mercy. It wasn't my idea to come here, I let myself be pursuaded by the others. I never thought I'd be left behind.

Though the city has remained untouched by mankind for decades, it has not been able to escape the withering breath of time. The street I'm walking on is full of deap cracks. The houses around me are falling apart, crumbling under their own roofs. Their windows are hollow eyes, staring out into space. Or maybe they're staring at me. Maybe they're trying to tell me to turn back while I still can. They are right. All I want is to find the fastest way out.

A sudden sound makes me jerk around. Frantically I search the streets with my gaze for a sign that I'm not alone. Then I realize that I have stepped on fragments of glass, causing a sound so deafening in the silence.

I slowly start walking again, picking up speed as I see the outskirts of town approaching. I am eager to leave this place behind.

Finally, I reach the big, black metal gates that show me the way out. I make one last glance over my shoulder, at the place that had once been filled with life. I wonder how that all could disappear, and it gives me a pressing feeling of loneliness and discomfort. Before I have even reached the fields that will take me home I am running. This place is not for me, but if I keep running, there will be love and warmth waiting for me.

A/N I haven't really tried short stories before, but I would really appreciate some feedback. This story is a metaphore for, well you can interpret it however you like.




