Whispering Library

The strong wind blew, carrying the fallen leaves off the road. The street looked as if a hurricane had stuck the entire city. Roads were deserted, and silence reigned. Nora stood under a small awning on Hamra Street. "The winter has turned out to be harsher than I expected" she muttered to herself. "Just a little bit more, and I'll reach the library. "Ugh such a cold weather".

She crossed the street, the wind biting at her cheeks, and arrived at the whispering library. But when she reached the familiar building's corner, her breath caught. It wasn't there. Instead of the warm brick facade, there was an empty lot-a construction site. The space where the library had stood for years was now just a blank, desolate space.

Confused, she stepped back, blinking rapidly, thinking it must have been a mistake. She squinted at the street signs. She was on the right street, wasn't she? Hamra Street...but the library? It was supposed to be right there.

With a sense of unease settling in her chest, she walked closer. She could still picture it- the way the library's warm lights glowed through the window. But there was nothing now but the hollow sound of her footsteps echoing an empty ground.

Nora's heart pounded as she stared at the space, feeling a chill creep over her. It couldn't be gone, could it? The library had been a part of her life for years. It had been her escape from the noise of the world, her place to create, to dream. How could it just...disappear?

As she stood there, a figure appeared in the distance-a man walking toward her. He moved with purpose, but there was something about the way he walked, as if he was coming from a place that no longer existed. He stopped just a few feet from her and glanced at the empty space.

"Looking for something?" he asked, his voice smooth but distant.

Nora Froze. "The library", she whispered, almost afraid to ask. It was here. Where did it go?

The man didn't answer right away. He only looked at the empty space with vague expression, as if he was remembering something long lost. Then he spoke, his voice low, almost wistful. "The whispering library... You won't find it again; it was never meant to last"

Nora's breath caught in her throat. She took a step back, feeling sudden coldness sweep over her. She tried to ask more, but when she blinked, the man was gone, vanished into the mist.

Wind howled again, carrying the sound of distant thunder. Nora turned and walked away, her mind racing with questions. Was it all a dream? Had the library every truly existed? or had she been drawn into a place that no longer belongs to this world?

Disappointed, distracted, and frustrated, she began to suspect she was experiencing a hallucination. Where did it go? A whole library with more than 10,000 books — vanished just like that? There must be something wrong, for sure. Oh God, I'm going to lose my mind. There's something vague about it. I lived there a lifetime, and someone popped out from nowhere telling me that it's no longer there?! Things started to slip out of Nora’s control. She decided to dig deeper, to reveal the mysterious secret she was searching for. Searching was the first key to unlocking it. The next day, she headed back to the same place where she had seen the old man. She stood still, stunned at the plot twist that had turned her life upside down. She entered the construction site, a fog of pain covering her heart. Breathing heavily, a tear slid down her cheek, revealing the sadness wrapped around her soul. For her, it was more than just a library. It was a place where she unleashed her creativity, her escape every time she lost herself. There was a strange connection to the library — one she couldn’t even explain. As if they'd taken a piece of her heart... and shattered it. Nora stopped abruptly and returned home. Upon arriving, she immediately threw her fingers onto her laptop keyboard and began searching. She typed Whispering Library into Google and started digging. She spent hours sitting behind the screen, her eyes growing heavy with sleep — until something jolted her awake. She stumbled upon a website that held news dating back to 1995. It was as if someone had lit a fire inside her. Nora straightened her back, put on her eyeglasses, and stared at the screen. What she saw left her speechless. Thirty years ago, in 1995 — before she was even born — the library had caught fire. She ripped off her glasses, threw herself back onto her bed, placed her hands behind her

head, and, filled with confusion, muttered: "What is going on? I'm going to lose my mind." But she couldn’t stop. She went back to the laptop and started scrolling deeper, her mouse moving faster with every second. Then, a big title appeared on the screen: A Fire Ate the Library 30 Years Ago.

There it was:

A fire destroyed the Whispering Library in winter 1995. Casualties included the head librarian, whose identity remained unknown after the blaze.

Her blood ran cold.

Head librarian? Unknown Identity?

But something inside her was stirring. It was a memory, not a feeling, as if she had been there once before. Not as a visitor. I felt a sense of belonging.

Driven by the force she couldn't resist, Nora turned back to her laptop, scrolling, eyes sharp with urgency.

A larger headline Flashed before her:

Tragic fire: The library that held more than books—it held a soul.

Nora's hand trembled on the mouse. Her heart raced faster. Was I part of it?

Somewhere, in the deepest corners of her mind, a door creaked open, and a whisper curled through: "Welcome back."

Her eyes widened, her ears opened, her hands were shaking, and her body shivered. That must be a joke.

She started to sweat, feeling anxious and frustrated from what she'd just heard and seen.

"This couldn't be happening."

Nora stares out the window, a distant ache in her chest. She’s been a wanderer since then—floating between lives and memories, trying to escape what she used to be.