The morning light crept through the sheer curtains of Ayla's room, casting a warm, golden glow across her bed. She blinked slowly, the softness of the sunlight a cruel contrast to the heaviness in her chest. It felt like the sun was mocking her, unaware of the weight she carried from the day before.
Yesterday had been suffocating. The whispers, the doubt from her friends, and the cryptic words of the fortune teller during the parade had gnawed at her thoughts. She had hoped for answers, but instead, she was left with more questions-about herself, about her place in all of this. Today, she just wanted to be alone. No whispers. No secrets. No friends second-guessing her. Just her.
She stretched out a hand to the nightstand, grabbing her phone. Swiping through the familiar notifications, she paused, her fingers hovering over the screen before she clicked on her pre-ordered appointment at Pixar Animation Studio. The art gallery had always been her escape-a place where she could lose herself in creativity, letting the swirling colors and vibrant art soothe her mind. It had been months since her last visit, and today seemed like the perfect time to return.
With a soft sigh, Ayla slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. She filled the tub, the soothing scent of lavender oil curling around her like a comforting embrace as the water cascaded. She needed this-time to relax, to let the tension from the past few days melt away.
After her bath, she stood in front of her closet, fingers grazing over the hangers before settling on a cute, casual outfit-an oversized knit sweater and a flowy skirt that gave her just enough freedom. She pulled her hair into a messy bun, letting her bangs fall into place before coiling them slightly with her fingers. A touch of lipstick, a sweep of mascara-just enough to make her feel like herself again.
When she descended the grand staircase, the mansion was already alive with activity. The maids and butlers moved through the halls, their polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floors. The house felt like a relic of a different time, with its towering arches and intricate woodwork, like a piece of the 15th century frozen in place.
At the dining table, the maid laid out her breakfast-fresh fruit, warm pastries, toast with jam, and a small dish of creamy pasta. Ayla ate quietly, savoring each bite as she let her mind drift to the gallery. It was one of the few places she could go where she didn't have to think about whispers or the hidden world she was slowly becoming a part of.
Once finished, she stepped outside, greeted by the familiar sight of the sleek black car parked in front of the mansion. The driver nodded as he opened the door for her. With one last glance at the mansion behind her, she settled into the backseat. As the car began to move, her thoughts wandered once more-this time to the day ahead, the art, and the peaceful escape she so desperately needed.
Today, she promised herself, would be different. Today, it would just be her and the art. Nothing more. OR SO SHE THOUGHT...
----
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across Ayla's garden as she made her way home from the art gallery. The night felt alive, with rustling leaves and the distant sound of laughter echoing in the air. Yet, a chill crept up her spine, an unsettling feeling that she was being watched.
As Ayla approached her door, the streetlamp flickered, momentarily plunging her into darkness. She hesitated, sensing a presence behind her. Just as she turned, a figure emerged from the shadows-tall, cloaked, and undeniably captivating.
"Who are you?" Ayla demanded, her heart racing. The figure stepped forward, revealing a striking man with deep, stormy eyes that seemed to hold secrets of their own. She had never seen him before, yet there was an unexplainable pull between them.
"Someone who can help you," he replied, his voice smooth and low, sending a shiver down her spine. "But you need to trust me."
Before Ayla could respond, the air around them shifted. Dark tendrils began to creep from the shadows, wrapping around her ankles like serpents, pulling her toward the darkness. Panic surged through her as she struggled against the unseen force.
Without hesitation, the man stepped in front of her, his presence radiating a power she could feel even from a distance. He raised his hand, and a burst of energy shot forth, dissipating the darkness that threatened to consume her.
"Run!" he commanded, his gaze fierce, yet his expression softened just for a moment, as if he saw something in her that made him hesitate. Ayla didn't need to be told twice; she dashed toward her house, her breath coming in quick bursts.
But just as she reached the door, she felt a tug at her heart-a longing to turn back and confront the stranger. Who was he? Why did she feel so drawn to him?
As she glanced over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of him standing against the dark, his features illuminated by the fading light, an enigmatic figure who had just saved her life. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat, and in that instant, a silent understanding passed between them-a connection that felt both familiar and forbidden.
But before Ayla could gather her thoughts, the shadows receded, and the man disappeared into the night, leaving her with more questions than answers.
--
End of chapter eight
YOU ARE READING
WHISPERS OF HIDDEN SECRETS ✨
Fantasy**In a world where everyone is born with a whisper-an inner voice that carries fragments of their future-19-year-old Ayla's whisper reveals a secret that could change everything. While most whispers guide people through small decisions in life, Ayla...
