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UNCOMPLETED LOVE

Not all love stories have a hay ending

By EmilyPublished 4 months ago 3 min read
5
UNCOMPLETED LOVE
Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash

I dashed across the roads, weaving through the crowds, feeling as though every passerby was casting curious glances my way. After all, who wouldn't take notice of a girl clutching a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a bag in the other, sprinting with reckless abandon?

My destination was my college, where we were scheduled for a museum trip that day. Last night, my excitement had rendered sleep nearly impossible; instead, I found myself tossing and turning on the floor, consumed by thoughts of the impending excursion. Consequently, I overslept, necessitating a hurried morning. Upon arriving at the college, I was disheartened to find that the bus had just departed. With a resigned sigh, I finished my sandwich and opted for a taxi to the museum.

Fuming inwardly, I chided myself for the unnecessary sprint through the crowd. Had I foreseen this predicament, I could have simply taken a taxi from home. My frustration simmered as I contemplated the missed opportunity to savor my meal leisurely.

Once inside the taxi, I plugged in my headphones, drowning out the world with music as we sped toward our destination. Arriving just in the nick of time, I disembarked and settled the fare before hurrying up the steps, where I was greeted with a disapproving glare from my teacher, Miss Evelyn.

Miss Evelyn, an elderly but dignified figure in her eighties, exuded an air of timeless elegance despite the silver strands interwoven within her silky hair. Her countenance betrayed no emotion as she acknowledged my punctuality with a terse remark. Attempting to offer an explanation, I was promptly cut off by her brisk directive to proceed inside.

Reluctantly, I trailed behind my classmates, a quiet observer in the midst of camaraderie. Though cordial, none among them counted as true friends; I remained an unassuming figure in the classroom, neither exceptional nor particularly noteworthy.

Stepping through the museum doors, we were greeted by the grandeur of the main hall, adorned with ancient statues of formidable stature. As Miss Evelyn commenced her educational discourse, I found myself captivated by the surrounding artifacts, each bearing a tale of antiquity. Some statues exuded an aura of menace, while others emanated ethereal beauty, captivating my imagination.

Seizing a moment of distraction, I discreetly slipped away from the group, embarking on a solitary exploration of the museum's chambers. My curiosity piqued by a closed emerald door, I endeavored to unlock its secrets, only to be thwarted by its steadfast resistance. Casting a furtive glance around, I noted the distracted security personnel engaged in conversation, presenting an opportune moment to scrutinize the door for clues.

Intricately adorned with floral motifs, the door bore an enigmatic inscription at its center, its message cryptic yet alluring. Despite the implicit warning, my curiosity outweighed prudence; I resolved to breach its threshold.

Beneath the ominous decree, a hand symbol beckoned, its significance elusive yet irresistible. With a fleeting glance over my shoulder to ensure my clandestine endeavor remained unnoticed, I tentatively pressed my palm against the symbol. A sudden chill enveloped me as the door creaked open, its hinges groaning in protest against the passage of time.

Stepping across the threshold, I was enveloped by an otherworldly ambiance, a haunting melody echoing through the chamber. Surveying my surroundings, I beheld a tableau of regal opulence, adorned with portraits of ancient monarchs and a solitary mannequin bedecked in resplendent finery.

Approaching the mannequin, I reached out to touch its jeweled crown, inadvertently dislodging a small emerald stone. In a panic, I attempted to restore it to its rightful place, but to no avail. Faced with a dilemma, I grappled with the moral quandary of pilfering the stone, ultimately succumbing to temptation.

Retreating from the chamber, I inadvertently triggered a mysterious phenomenon, rendering all within the museum unconscious. Hastily departing, I closed the door behind me, inadvertently restoring consciousness to my unwitting companions.

In the ensuing days, my thoughts remained ensnared by the enigmatic events of that fateful day. Beset by financial woes and the specter of loneliness, I embarked on a quest for solace and sustenance, haunted by memories of familial loss and unfulfilled aspirations.

Part 1
5

About the Creator

Emily

I am just a simple girl, but I have big dreams.

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Comments (3)

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  • Rose Maria Roy4 months ago

    next part please

  • Roy Sebastian4 months ago

    when will you publish the next part?

  • Emily (Author)4 months ago

    this is just the starting, the rest will be published soon

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