21/12/1852
Dear Diary,
I sit in my chamber, surrounded by the silence of the void, safe from the crackling fire that hisses in the corner, allowing me to drown in my own sorrows. My mind is an endless storm of grief, but there is no refuge from it, no escape. The house, once a sanctuary of love and light is now nothing more than a hollow shell, echoing with the unbearable absence of her
Lenore, I can’t escape her. I try to fill the silence with thoughts, with distractions, but nothing fills this insatiable void. No matter how much I call out into the dark, her name, an anguished plea, there is no reply, only the stillness of the world that has ceased to care. She is gone, and with her, a part of me has died too.
I had just began to sink into the illusion of sleep when an insistent tapping came at my chamber door. This stillness of my room, dark and deep, is broken now, as shadows softly prowl the walls. “Lenore?” the word is barely above a whisper. As I speak, a shiver ran through me, a feeling of dread that has no clear source, only a gnawing presence that seemed to grow more prominent with each pasting moment.
Something stirred me, not from fear but from a deep unsettling curiosity. I rise from my bed, my pulse quickening as I throw the door open, only to be met with an ominous abyss of darkness. The palpable winter night stares back at me, the chill biting at my skin and making my teeth chatter. Closing the door, I hear it once more; a tapping on the window. Only this time, more deliberate, more sure of itself. It called to me, urging me to respond. I felt an odd pull, as if something beyond the veils of the earth beckoned me.
With trembling hands, I crack the window open to find the source and there it was, a raven, majestic and foreboding, as black as endless night, flying inside just to perch on my chamber’s antiquated door. Now all that remains is the oppressive , punctuated silence interrupted only by the occasional rustle of the raven’s wings. Its presence mocks me, its eyes gleaming with an unknowable sorrows that mirrors my own.
“Nevermore” The word echoes through the chamber, reverberating in my mind like a cursed refrain. I still at the absurdity of such a creature speaking. My heart hammers in my chest as the bird with its cold, unblinking gaze, repeats the word again and again, each time a dagger to my already fractured heart. The raven’s “nevermore” resounds in my ears driving me to the brink of madness.
I fear it is not just a word but a fate that I will never escape, muttering doubts and agitation that I cannot put to rest. I am lost, alone, left with a feeling of endless void. The unyielding silence is the only companion which I fear will consume me ultimately.
By: Sheena Balasubramanian
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