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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/sindbad/day/10-26-2025
Rated: 13+ · Book · Experience · #2171316

As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book

Evolution of Love Part 2
October 26, 2025 at 9:41am
October 26, 2025 at 9:41am
#1100171
Day 8:“Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.” — A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)



Ananya’s new flat in Green Park was supposed to be a step up in her life. Sunlight sat heavy on old curtains, dust swirling as she unpacked, tracing patterns of forgotten lives. The only decoration was a sepia portrait: a woman, thick braid, serious eyes, watching.
When Ananya asked about it, the landlord shrugged. “Don’t take it down,” he warned, voice flat.
Night brought silence sharp enough to sting. Seven days in, sleep turned fitful. At 2:47 a.m., the quiet fractured — three soft taps on her window, measured and rhythmic. In sleep, the woman in the portrait appeared — always in the corner, always silent, always watching.
Then the whisper began. It wound through dreams, cold as frost: “Stay awake… or she’ll take your name.”
Ananya dismissed it until dawn revealed something new — her name, carved in fresh lines on the wooden floor. Her heart raced.
Desperate for reassurance, Ananya reached out to her friend Vikram. Together, they combed through local archives. The nightmare belonged to history: Rupa Devi, a schoolteacher, vanished in 1957 from this very building. Police found nothing but locked rooms, carved names, and a single bundle of hair beneath the bed.
Swallowing dread, Ananya tried to confront her fear. She lifted the portrait. Behind it: an empty wall, a faded ribbon, and a yellowed scrap of paper. The message: “Don’t fall asleep. She comes then.”
The next night, sleep trembled behind closed eyes. At 2:47 a.m., the house exhaled shadows. Something cold pressed close, lips at her ear, the whisper relentless.
Morning never came for Ananya.
Vikram found the flat open, the portrait returned to its original place. He swore the woman’s smile was wider now. If you strain to hear, late at night, you’ll catch a breathless whisper from the wall:
“Your turn.”


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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/sindbad/day/10-26-2025