The Forgotten Lullaby

**The Forgotten Lullaby**

 

 Every night, just as I drift into the quiet embrace of sleep, a faint melody fills my room. A soft, sorrowful lullaby, played by an old music box. But there's one problem... I don’t own a music box. At first, I dismissed it as a trick of my mind, a sound born from the edge of dreams. But last night, the melody grew louder, pulling me from sleep. My heart pounded as I sat up, scanning the dimly lit room. Then, I saw it—a small wooden box resting on my nightstand, where nothing had been before. I reached out with trembling fingers and lifted the lid. The melody poured out, wrapping around me like a forgotten memory. But as the gears turned, something else happened. The air shifted, and the shadows in the room deepened. My reflection in the mirror wavered, and for a moment, I wasn’t looking at myself—I was looking at someone else. A girl with wide, sorrowful eyes. Her lips moved soundlessly as if she were trying to speak, but no words came. Then, the music stopped. I gasped, my pulse racing. The girl in the mirror had vanished, and the room was silent again. But before I could process what had happened, I noticed something even stranger. A door. A door that had never been there before, standing slightly ajar, as if waiting for me to step through. A whisper curled through the air, barely audible: *Come back...* I hesitated. My mind screamed at me to stay in bed, to pretend I hadn’t heard anything, but my body had already moved. Slowly, cautiously, I stepped toward the door. As I reached out, the wood felt unnaturally cold beneath my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open. The room beyond was not part of my house. A dim, flickering light illuminated peeling wallpaper and dust-covered furniture. The air smelled of something old and forgotten, like time itself had stopped here. At the center of the room stood a crib, draped in tattered lace. The lullaby began again, louder now, almost pleading. I stepped closer, my heart hammering against my ribs. Inside the crib lay the same wooden music box, its lid slowly turning. But as I reached for it, a cold hand closed around my wrist. I spun around, my breath caught in my throat. The girl from the mirror stood before me, her wide eyes filled with something between sorrow and urgency. Her lips finally moved, and this time, I heard her whisper: *You have to remember...* Before I could ask what she meant, the world around me began to distort. Shadows crawled across the walls, and the air turned thick, pressing against my skin. The lullaby warped into something eerie, almost desperate. I woke up gasping, back in my bed. The music box was gone. The door had vanished. But the whisper still lingered in my mind: *You have to remember...* And tonight, when the lullaby plays again, I think I finally will.