There was an abandoned region in the soul. By Carlos del Puente

 There was an abandoned region in the soul. The old oak tree stood tall, its gnarled branches casting long shadows across the field. It was a silent sentinel to the seasons that had come and gone, the leaves rustling a secret only the wind knew. "You know, they say it's haunted," said a young girl named Lila, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. She looked over at her older brother, Alex, who was busy tying his shoe laces without glancing up. "Lila, you and your ghost stories," Alex responded, a smirk playing on his lips as he finally looked up at her. "You've read too many of those comics." "It's not just me," Lila insisted. "Everyone says that weird things happen around here. Like, animals avoid it, and sometimes you can hear whispers in the wind." Alex rolled his eyes, "Whispers, really? You've been watching too many horror movies." Their mother called out from the house, "You two are going to be late for school!" Alex grabbed Lila's hand and started to pull her away from the tree. "Come on, let's go, or we'll miss the bus." As they walked, the field felt eerily quiet, as if the very grass was holding its breath. The sky was a pale blue, with a few scattered clouds that looked like they were painted on by a careless artist. Lila couldn't shake off the feeling that something was watching them from the tree's shadowy embrace. "I dare you to go touch it," she challenged, her voice barely above a whisper. Alex stopped, his curiosity piqued. He turned to face the tree, squared his shoulders, and took a step towards it. The closer he got, the more he felt the weight of the silence pressing down on him. The tree's bark was rough and cold under his fingertips, and when he leaned in to touch it, the world around them seemed to still. "What's taking so long?" their mother shouted impatiently from the porch. The sudden noise made Alex jump, and his hand jerked back from the tree as if it had been burned. "Nothing," he yelled back, his voice sounding braver than he felt. Lila giggled. "Chicken." He glared at her, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Fine," he said, "I'll prove it's just a tree." Alex took a deep breath and reached out again, his hand inching closer to the ancient bark. As his skin made contact, the world around them shivered, and the whispers grew louder. The tree seemed to hum with an energy that was palpable, and for a brief moment, the siblings felt as if they were standing on the precipice of a vast, unexplored region, one that had been abandoned by time itself. The whispers grew into a roar, and the tree's branches began to sway wildly. Lila's eyes went wide with terror, and she grabbed onto Alex's arm. The air grew thick and electric, and the very fabric of reality seemed to warp around them. Alex stumbled back, pulling his hand away as if he'd been stung. "Let's go," he said, his voice trembling. Together, they ran towards the house, the whispers of the old oak tree following them like a shadow, hinting at secrets they had never dared to imagine.

By Carlos del Puente