Until you see | ✓

❝ Secrets, lies, deceitful smirks, breathing in dust— my love bloom in red until you see again! ❞

. . .

Nothing sounded, nothing stirred, only the world's imprisoned in a glair-white silence.

But what's the fault of this rustic wood? It's cracking up as if it'll fall at any moment. Annabelle is trudging carefully. A week ago, a great storm screeched through here. It didn't stop her from coming. After all, tomorrow is a big day. Her dream will come true.

She adjusted her coat, coming face to face with the dusty door; filled with cobwebs.

Her answers, quest of years all in one place.

Without thinking too much, she opens the door, it crackles in the signal of opening. As the night turns cold, the urge of going back is getting stronger for her. Yet she can't until she gets the answer.

Dust coils in every corner of the wall, vapour veils in every smoulder. She almost stumbled near the dirty staircase. It's her ancestor's house. It wouldn't be a lie if one says, her family abandoned this house after obtaining what they wanted from here. Obviously the money.

Her great grandfather built this house nearly 150 years ago. He always believed that legacy should be something that carried on years after years. His son —her grandfather continued the legacy by living and breathing here, unfortunately her father and uncles failed to do so.

For them, it was a wastage so they got rid of it as soon as her grandfather died.

But— legacy is like the sun's daystar, shining bright in daylight and luminous in mysterious beauty.

And fate couldn't unleash the last line.

It brought her here.

She should get all her answers, right? After all, it's what she's living till now.

This land delivers an eerie glamour to their death sleep. The wind dies with the hollowness of this occasion, creating a terrible silence. There is no insect-hum, no leaf-rustle, no wind-music.

She tiptoes around every corner. It should be here. It should be here. She desperately rummages through every door but they're locked, giving her hard luck.

She couldn't confess without knowing the history.

She remembered that day clearly — her eighteenth birthday!

The tragedy and the glory of the cycle of life. And irony of fate, her birthday falls exactly on the night of treats and tricks. Birthday should be filled with treats right? But after her eighteenth birthday, she found out it's all about tricks.

Phut—phut—phut— she was engrossed in her wild moves that night until her mother pulled her in a corner.

Hallowe'en creeps up with sinister intent. Visions of doom-witches steal into dreams. And they finally got their way.

"Dear, since you're finally an adult now I think it's time to reveal this thing to you," said her mother while caressing her cheek.

"We have a house in the end of this town. It's our ancestor's house. We moved out from there before we'd you. Hence, you don't have any clue about it. It's true, we don't visit there anymore but your great grandfather had prepared something for all of you. You must go and look for it, only when you've found your true love."

That day, Annabelle gave a bewildered gaze and laughed aloud at her mother's nervous antics.

She didn't feel the tug of need but after ten years, her heart finally gave in. She decided to give it a go and see what's the ultimate guide.