Chapter 3- Old Halls, Old Ghosts
1156 Words
Liora POV
"Who are you?" one of them demanded.
The girl had platinum-blonde cornrows and a look that suggested she wasn't used to being challenged.
"Who I am doesn't matter," I replied calmly. "What matters is that you're not supposed to treat her this way because of who she is."
"Mind your business," the other girl snapped.
Without another word, they dragged the victim toward a nearby room.
For a brief moment, I considered following them. Every instinct in me wanted to step in and make sure the girl was alright. But I knew better.
Following them meant getting involved.
Getting involved meant attracting attention.
And attracting attention was the last thing I wanted during my internship.
I shook my head and turned toward the staircase, determined to leave the matter behind. Yet, strangely enough, my feet seemed to have other plans.
Instead of heading for the exit, I found myself wandering through the building.
Perhaps it was curiosity.
Perhaps it was nostalgia.
Or perhaps a part of me simply wasn't ready to leave Blackthorn behind again.
I allowed my feet to carry me wherever they wished.
First, I passed through the students' resting area.
Then the grand dance floor.
After that came the auditorium.
Each place carried echoes of memories I thought I had buried long ago.
Eventually, my wandering led me to my final destination.
The library.
The moment I stepped into the wealthy hallway leading toward it, fragments of the past came flooding back.
I remembered the students who walked these halls as though they owned the entire world.
The whispered gossip.
The scandals.
The endless dramas that spread across campus like wildfire.
Back then, I had found it entertaining.
I had laughed at the stories.
Listened to the rumors.
Watched the chaos unfold from a distance.
But everything changed when I became the story.
The same mouths that had whispered about others suddenly whispered about me.
The same people who enjoyed spreading rumors became my judges.
I was criticized.
Mocked.
Reduced to a topic of discussion because of circumstances I had never chosen for myself.
The memories still stung even after all this time.
Two years had passed, yet some wounds refused to heal completely.
I pushed those thoughts aside and continued toward the library.
The building stood proudly at the center of Blackthorn.
Old.
Majestic.
Timeless.
Its medieval architecture gave it an almost magical appearance, as though it belonged in a forgotten kingdom rather than a university campus.
It had always been my favorite place in the entire school.
The towering mahogany bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling, carrying generations of knowledge within their polished wooden frames.
The scent of old books wrapped around me like a familiar embrace.
For the first time that day, I felt completely at peace.
I wandered through every section.
Every aisle.
Every corner.
Every shelf.
It felt like revisiting an old friend.
Hours passed without me noticing.
The outside world disappeared as I lost myself among stories, histories, and forgotten worlds hidden between pages.
By the time I finally looked at the clock, it was already seven in the evening.
A small sigh escaped my lips.
I had stayed much longer than intended.
Leaving the library behind, I headed toward the train station and made my way home.
Not long after boarding the train, my phone vibrated.
Louis.
A small smile appeared on my face.
He had sent a message asking about my whereabouts.
I quickly assured him that I was fine and on my way home.
True to my estimate, I arrived less than an hour later.
Louis and I had met during my sophomore year.
Thinking about him always brought warmth to my heart.
At the time, he had been pursuing a postgraduate program connected to a popular fashion brand.
Back then, I was struggling.
The incident that changed my life had left me broken in ways I never thought possible.
Everything felt dark.
Every day felt heavy.
And yet Louis had remained by my side.
He never judged me.
Never pushed me.
Never treated me differently.
Instead, he became the shoulder I cried on when everything seemed to be falling apart.
He helped me rebuild myself piece by piece.
When I could barely see a future ahead of me, he worked tirelessly to arrange a transfer for me.
He gave me a chance to start over.
A chance to breathe again.
A chance to heal.
A year later, he confessed his feelings.
By then, I already knew how much he meant to me.
There was no reason to reject him.
He had become the brightest light in the darkest chapter of my life.
And even now, he remained that light.
"Liora, would you like to go for a stroll?" he asked softly after I arrived home.
I blinked in surprise.
"I'm actually tired."
"Please," he said with a smile. "I want to show you something."
The excitement in his eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Curiosity eventually won.
I changed into something more comfortable before joining him outside.
The night air was cool and refreshing.
Louis led me toward the city center.
As we walked, I noticed unusual decorations lining the streets.
Strings of lights hung above us like glowing stars.
Beautiful flower sculptures stood proudly along the sidewalks.
The entire area looked transformed.
"It seems like a festival is happening," I said.
Louis smiled.
"The Moonlight Festival."
"The Moonlight Festival?"
"It's an annual celebration," he explained. "I had a feeling you'd enjoy it."
I looked around, taking in the atmosphere.
Families laughed together.
Children ran through the streets.
Music drifted through the air.
The entire city seemed alive.
For a while, I forgot about Blackthorn.
Forgot about the memories.
Forgot about the ghosts of the past.
I simply enjoyed the moment.
Then performers dressed in elaborate costumes appeared.
The crowd erupted into applause as they began dancing.
Lights shimmered across their colorful outfits.
Music filled every corner of the street.
The performance was mesmerizing.
One act followed another.
Dancers.
Musicians.
Artists.
Every presentation seemed more beautiful than the last.
The hours slipped away effortlessly.
Before we knew it, it was already ten o'clock.
Reluctantly, Louis and I decided to call it a night.
Hand in hand, we made our way home beneath the glow of the festival lights.
For the first time since returning to Blackthorn, I felt strangely at peace.
The memories of the past still lingered, but they no longer seemed as overwhelming as they had that morning.
Maybe coming back wasn't a mistake after all.
Maybe this internship would be exactly what I needed—a chance to move forward instead of constantly looking back.
As Louis squeezed my hand gently, I allowed myself to believe that thought.
Just for a moment.
Because neither of us knew that Blackthorn wasn't done with me yet.
And the past I had worked so hard to escape was already beginning to stir.
- Writer
