Lili : “Its Not The Wings That Makes The Angel”

"For every step In any walk
Any town of any thaught
I'll be your guide"

Put Your Fears Back In The Shade

I woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the empty halls of our old house. It was a sound I hadn’t heard since our daughter, Lili, passed away. My wife, Sarah, insisted we keep Lili’s room untouched, a shrine to her memory. I agreed, thinking it would help Sarah heal. But lately, she seemed to be slipping further away from me, lost in her grief.

One night, I found Sarah standing in Lili’s room, talking softly to someone. “Lili loves when you visit,” she said, turning to smile at an empty corner. My heart sank. “Sarah, there’s no one there,” I whispered, reaching out to her. She looked at me, her eyes filled with sorrow, and whispered back, “She’s always here, you just need to believe.”

I started to notice more oddities. Toys scattered on the floor, as if recently played with. Sarah’s laughter, mingling with a child’s giggles, drifting from Lili’s room. Each time I entered, the room fell silent, the toys motionless. Sarah’s insistence on Lili’s presence grew stronger, her connection to reality weaker. I felt her slipping through my fingers, retreating into a world I couldn’t enter.

Desperate, I suggested we move, hoping a new environment would help Sarah heal. She vehemently refused, claiming Lili couldn’t follow us. That night, I awoke to find Sarah’s side of the bed empty. A soft glow and hushed voices led me to Lili’s room. Sarah sat on the floor, a small figure cloaked in shadows beside her. My heart raced. “Sarah, who are you talking to?” I demanded, stepping into the room.

Don’t Become a Ghost Without no Color

The figure turned towards me, its features obscured in darkness. “Daddy, don’t you see me?” a familiar voice asked. Chills ran down my spine. It was Lili’s voice. But it couldn’t be. Lili was gone. “This isn’t real,” I stammered, backing away. Sarah stood up, her eyes shining with tears. “She’s here, she’s always been here. You just refused to see her.”

I ran from the room, my mind racing. Was I losing my grip on reality, or was Sarah? The next day, I returned from work to find the house silent. Panicked, I searched every room until I reached Lili’s. Sarah wasn’t there. Neither were Lili’s toys. The room was empty, devoid of the life Sarah claimed still lingered.

I found Sarah in our backyard, lying peacefully as if asleep, a smile on her lips. But as I looked closely and put my mind in place, Sarah was lying inside Lilly’s grave. She had dug the grave with her bare hands. Beside her, a small, empty grave had been dug up. Lili’s grave. In her hand, a note: “We’re together now. Don’t worry, we’ll wait for you.”

You’ re The Best Paint Life Ever Made

The police said it was a tragic case of grief turning into madness. Lilly’s remains were not there. The police never found them. I’m left alone, haunted by the laughter and whispers that fill the empty house. Sometimes, in the dead of night, I swear I can hear Sarah’s voice, soothingly talking to Lili, inviting me to join them. And I wonder, was the horror in losing my family, or in my refusal to see them, to believe in their presence? The line between reality and madness blurs, leaving me questioning everything I thought I knew.

"For every Street of any scene
Any place you've never been
I 'll be your guide"

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If you enjoyed this story, then you should read “The Smiling Curse”: An Easter Horror Story