LIBRARY OF LOST PAGES - by Stacy📚🌹

LIBRARY OF LOST PAGES Violet had walked every lane she could think of, yet every path led her back to the same place. An ancient castle-like building stood at the end of the road, as though the world refused to let her leave.She was stranded:no money, no phone, and, worst of all, no memory of how she had gotten there. After hours of wandering, panic gave way to desperation. She climbed the worn stone steps and knocked. Silence. She pushed the heavy door open. Inside was a vast library. Endless shelves curved in circles beneath towering staircases. Dust floated through shafts of light as Violet sneezed, brushing a cobweb from her hair. "Hello?" she called. "Is anyone here?" Only her echo answered. She searched for hours but found no one. Eventually, her eyes settled on a dusty copy of Romeo and Juliet. The cover bore no author's name. With nothing else to do, she opened it. The library vanished. She stood among the characters, laughing with them, grieving with them, feeling every joy and heartbreak as though it were her own. Tears filled her eyes as Romeo and Juliet secretly exchanged their vows. Then, without warning, she was back in the library. The next page was blank. So was every page after it. "I had hoped you would choose a happier ending," a voice sighed. An old woman descended the staircase. Or perhaps she was young. Violet couldn't tell. Her long white hair flowed behind a gown stitched from book pages. "There is only one way to leave this library," she said. "The first book you choose is the tale you will complete.A pen in hand, you hold the keyTo set these wandering spirits free.The author must grant the peaceThe story could never command." Before Violet could speak, the woman disappeared. Her hands trembled as she found a pen on the table. The agony of the characters in the book, begging her for an ending. She wanted to save them. She wanted to rewrite their fate. The pen hovered over the blank page. Then the poem echoed in her mind. The author must grant the peace… Her eyes fell to the space where a name should have been. The author's name was missing. She wasn't the author. She had no right to decide their fate. Slowly, she wrote: William Shakespeare. The ink shimmered. Words spread across every blank page until the story reached its original ending. Painful though it was, it was the ending its author had chosen. The library doors creaked open. Outside, on the road back to her house, she stepped through the front door of her house. "Adanne, did you get the fish?" her mother asked. Violet simply hugged her. The clock read five minutes past the time she remembered before everything had begun. The next day, she visited her school library. She pulled a novel from the shelf. Her smile faded. The cover had no author's name.This was the round o1 of the writing competition wrote in the story prompt had a limit of 500 words.<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/Screenshot_20260707-133708_WhatsApp.jpg"/>

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