A place for the lost.

He was exhausted. He had been walking under the sun for hours and now he was sure that he was lost. He had foolishly decided to stray from the tour guide’s group, convinced that he knew enough to explore by himself. Unfortunately, as he had just discovered his navigation skills were not the best. After taking a few rights and a couple of lefts he found himself standing in front of a sign which welcomed him to a town called “Kardisia-a place for the lost”. The wooden sign showed signs of age and abuse. It had graffiti all over it and it was dented in a few places, as though it had been punched by someone in anger. As he walked into town he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He felt as if he was intruding, as if the town had sensed there was a stranger in its midst and was now silent so as to not give away its secrets.

“I'm being ridiculous, he thought to himself, shaking his head, as if trying to get rid of his thoughts. Halfheartedly, he began walking down the streets. The trees seemed to whispering among themselves, he could almost hear them judging him. The first house he came upon was a small one, made of brick. The windows was dirty and the weeds in the garden were overgrown. He could hear the voices of children playing in the garden, but he decided to move on to the next house. He was a bit of a neat freak and he did not like the look of those grimy windows. The next house had been painted a bright blue colour and had a picket white fence around it. He looked around and saw that each house had its own distinct style, its own personality, no two were the same. “Strange place”, he muttered to himself.

From the corner of his eye he could see the townspeople peaking out of their houses to catch a glimpse of him. Subconsciously he rubbed his face to make sure that there was nothing on it. He did not like being the center of attention and he wished that they would stop looking at him. He decided to ignore the stares and continued walking down the street. He thought that maybe the houses at the end would be more normal. The last house on the street was an old manor. It was large and he could not see it all at once. It seemed as if it had been standing since the beginning of time. There were rose bushes all around the house and vines decorated its grey walls. Beyond the house was a deck which led into a lake. It was the perfect holiday home. Slowly he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The bell was of an ancient kind where you pull a rope to ring it. The house was so huge he could hear the sound of the bell echo inside. He counted till 47 in his head, when the door creaked open. Behind it stood the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

Despite having silver hair she looked ageless. As if a goddess had come on earth and decided that this would be her mortal form. She was tall and had the old school hollywood glamour. She was dressed in a simple white chiton which confused him as he was sure that was not a modern clothing piece. He could not help but gawk at her. The lady showed no signs of confusion when she saw him, instead she smiled at him as if she had been expecting him.

“Come along they’ve been waiting for ages”

He had not a single clue to who this “they” was or where she was taking him, but somehow he found himself following her. They walked back up the street and by now every villager was out of their house and was blatantly staring at him. But the woman showed no signs of stopping, she simply ignored all of them and continued walking at a fast pace. Even though he kept on stumbling and tripping over his own feet, she walked gracefully and navigated through the fallen branches and tree roots with ease.

When he tried talking to her she didn’t answer, instead she took his hand and forced him to walk faster. Just as he was about to dig his heels into the ground and demand she tell him who she was, she stopped walking. She brought him forward and gave him a little push. When he turned around he realized that she had brought him back to the point where he had strayed away from his group. “ How did you-“, she had disappeared. Bewildered, he looked around but she was nowhere to be found. Slowly he walked back to his group.

He spent the next few days asking around about that woman and that town, but to his disappointment he got no answers. The only one who offered him some sort of closure was an old man who was a native of that place. The local had told him that a small town had existed in that area in the 90’s but since then its members had dwindled and now the town ceased to exist. When he asked why the members had started to leave he was told that the tourists who visited the place would often exploit the helpful townspeople. The people of the town were warm and loving. They would always welcome outsiders with a smile and people often took advantage of their naive personality and so the town grew smaller and smaller. But the man thought that the place still existed, it had just hidden itself from outsiders, but sometimes in the time of need they would help those travelers who were true and pure. “ But that’s just what the locals think, the tourists don’t seem to believe this” ,said the old man.

“ Well seeing is believing” he had said and walked away.

“ A place for the lost huh”.