The Search

This is an imaginaive writing. It doesn't resemble anyone. It purely is my creativity.

I hope you like it.

BOOK COVER BY @honestly_ . Thank you for this amazing one.

Hope you comment!

Thanks :)

This is purely my composition and hardwork. I request you, not to copy any of mine work or part of it. If you find anyone copying it then please inform me.

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I couldn't believe I was actually standing here. It was nostalgic to be present here.

In front of me was the place where I spent my whole childhood. A place where I had lots of memories some good and some bad. This place witnessed my life.

But why did it felt lonely? I didn't feel the same vibe that I used to get.

I could see those white painted walls, on which me and my sister used to draw things. But now the white had worn off, it was turning to dusty brown.

I could see those windows through which I used to stare at the night sky. But I couldn't see that little girl anymore. That little girl got lost somewhere.

I could see that door which was welcoming all the time but it didn't welcome me this time. I wondered why.

I could see the cherry tree near the house, under which we used to have breakfast every morning. But it was dead now. Those big pink blossoms were lifeless. The tree didn't look happy.

When I stared left to that tree, I could see the broken swings. Those swings were our favourite past time. We used to sit on them and our parents used to push them for us. But now there was no one sitting on it.

I entered to inside the house through that unwelcoming door. I could not hear my mother's or father's voice in it. An eerie silence was met. It was not inviting anymore.

The house was covered with dust, spider webs and rats. I could no more see evidence of my mother's magic hands in the house. Those had vanished.

I went to the kitchen. Empty utensils were covered with dust. I could no longer smell the delicious smell of my mother's dishes. The kitchen was dull. My mother was not here to bring it alive with her sweet voice.

I left kitchen and went to my father's study. I could see the books kept in shelves but there was no one to read them. The room was accompanied by an empty chair. There was no one to befriend those books while sitting in that chair. The desk had broken down. I picked up my favourite book from the shelf but my father was not here to explain all the difficult words to me.

I left that room and went to my sister and mine bedroom. There were no little girls anymore. There was no pillow fights happening. No two girls fighting with each other.

The house was lifeless. It was dead. There were no voices, no laugh. It was devoid of any emotions except sorrow and loneliness.

I walked through the halls and came to a stop. I found my family's photograph hung on wall. Then I realised, I was a fool. I had been searching to revive my childhood memories with this house but in truth this house didn't have my childhood memories. My memories were with my family. This place was just a house, it wasn't home. My home was with my parents and my sister.

This house was useless without my family. My memories are with my family.