An untold story... by StamatisGR on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Every abandoned house, hides a story inside its walls...
This time, I'd like to ask you to write me the story of this house, in few lines...
And here's your wonderful stories:

by
Thought we would be together for ever,
making our home the way it should be made for a long life and love.
But I can never forgive her now, the way,
that day
she just got up
and got out.
I stayed a while.
But my heart was in the walls and doors and in the furniture too,
all singing... I so loved you.
It was time to move out,
get out
and get somewhere else.
Abandon the old pain.

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Decayed images of a past life...
someone's moments lost forever
but his memories are hidden everywhere...
if you look behind the corner
you will find that he still lives there...
Images from the past
hidden for the eyes of tomorrow...

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His wife was taken unexpectedly and most unfairly. She had everything to live for and her life had been stolen away.
When he returned home from her funeral he thought he heard her voice, asking him to tell her about his day, but was just his imagination, his wishful thinking.
He curled up on the floor, listening for her.
With the first light of the morning his simmering rage boiled over. Tables were overturned, chairs smashed against the doors and windows, fire set to the walls.
He ran from the house, desperate to escape this hollow existence - void of meaning without his wife...

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The shell of a previous life, outgrown and forgotten.
Echoes of love and laughter, shared meals and secrets, exchanges over a family table. Perhaps the shell grew too small, or maybe it's contents shriveled up inside. Perhaps there is a man, right now, remembering the sky blue walls of his youth.

By
Eίμασταν πρόσφυγες......
Πρόσφυγες από τον τόπο μας.... πρόσφυγες από τη ζωή.....
ήρθαμε εδώ με όνειρα....... ελπίζαμε σε καινούργιες ανάσες......
τι θέλει ο άνθρωπος για να ζήσει..... μια σκεπή στο κεφάλι του.... ένα τραπέζι να ακουμπήσει το ψωμί του.... και αγάπη για να μοιραστεί το όνειρο.......
πόσα περάσαμε από τότε........
τι απόμεινε......
σκουπίδια αναμνήσεις......
το μικρό τραπέζι με το κόκκινο συρτάρι που καμάρωνε η μάννα......
το γραφειάκι αναποδογυρισμένο που περνούσε ο πατέρας τις νύχτες κάνοντας τους λογαριασμούς της ζωής μας....
και η σπασμένη πόρτα .... τότε που ο μικρός Γιαννάκης μας πέταγε το τόπι του και όποιον έπαιρνε ο χάρος...
ακόμα δεν κατάλαβα μετά από τόσα....
γυρίσαμε άραγε ή φύγαμε....
ποιός να μου πει....
και γιατί άλλωστε......

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My story behind this would have to be about a man and his dog. He's lost his family and is an alcoholic. he and his companion lived in this trusty isolated home until he could bear his demons no longer.

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The slamming doors and broken glass echoed in her memory. The caked flower remained under the table where all of the cookies had been made. Black lines marked where she had grown 2" that summer. That smell, the smell of blood was suffocating. It was still there, the shreds of the newspaper that had changed their lives forever.

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In Honor of the Victims of Hurricane Ike, Galveston, Texas
"We were ordered to evacuate, to leave our homes, head inland. After the storm passed, we were not allowed to return. No electricity, no running water, gas, etcetera. Finally, the heroic crews managed to clean up enough to allow us to return and assess damage, possibly salvage something. I don't think anybody could have imagined the heartbreaking wasteland that awated us. So many homes, places of life and families, reduced to rubble - as we might step on an ant mound ourselves. We were fortunate; we still had some walls. I tried to be thankful, because we had so much more than our neighbors around us. It was a lovely, sunshiny day."

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I picture a post-apocalyptic setting in where, after a couple of years of darkness, the sun finally came out. The inhabitants of that place, after seeing the sudden change of light mood, decided to break out the glass of the door and ran to the outside to see the sun in all its glory.

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His glance wandered over the broken door, the toppled table, the riven curtains until it met her.
She stood there, in her little magenta dress which he had bought her some years ago, her eyes as red as the garment.
Not long ago it had hurt him to see her cry, but now he did not care anymore. She had not cared for him, had she?
"S-sorry", she sobbed. "Sorry, d-darling!" He ignored her. He would not hurt her- his anger had been replaced by callousness. He did not want to see her, or the house they had lived in for so long, ever again.
He turned and left the room, left the building, without looking back.
Half an hour passed. She did not move, she just gazed at the door through which he had walked away. He would not come back. She knew it. And she knew that she could not stay neither. People must have heard the noises. People would ask questions.
Maybe she could sojourn at her parents' until she found a new place to live.
Silently crying, she packed her things and left.

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"This house had seen families, it had seen love, it had seen hate. But now it doesn't see much of anything. And maybe it's better that way. Maybe it's time to fade away, to decompose and return to the earth, leaving behind the good and the bad, reducing it's deep seated scars to dust and ash, and blowing away when time picks up the dust.... "

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Life leads us far and wide
Sometimes without notice
But never fear for that you'll lose
'Cause opportunity arises
Seize the day before it's gone
And you might find yourself
A wealthy man
Meandering
Somewhere along the horizon

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They lived to celebrate their 63rd wedding anniversary.
He died first, happy and content, with her at his side.
She was confused and didn't know what life meant without him. She didn't last 6 months after his death.
In honer of their parents everlasting devotion, the house was kept, tidy with memories and soon to be restored. The youngest son will move in with his new wife and baby daughter.

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"Each time I remember it, something changes. A detail from an object, the opening of the door, the color of the light. The smell.
Each time I remember it, something breaks inside of it. The windows shatter, the ground shakes, the paint flakes and dries out.
Each time I remember it, there's a wound that goes away and a scar that appears. It grieves for me and takes the pain away..."

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Non esiste per un padre dolore più grande che perdere la propria figlia.
La stanza che è dentro ciascuno di se...resta così...e questa fotografia è solo una pallida idea della stanza del cuore...

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There is one street, and in that street one house, which would be just an ordinary house in a long line of houses, so typical for this part of the world, if it was not so distinctively different and
occupied the attention of all the people that passed by. It's fasade was so usual, so colorful, with ivy growing all around it and beautiful iron door made in a shape of little branches and leaves. This house was truly a surreal creation. Inside this house, behind beautiful iron bars lives one bird, beautiful and colorful as the house itself. And today is a beautiful sunny day. Sun is shining and the sky is blue and all that cliches. Bird in a a beautiful colorful cage, behind iron door looks at the sun and the blue skies and dreams of flying high. Than one hand opens the door. Birds little heart was bumping like crazy. The dream will become reality now, all wishes
will be for filled. Slowly, bird spread her wings and flew! Happiness, delight, freedom!
Her wings, not used to flying starts shivering. Panicking, at the end of her strength, bird came back to her cage. She realized that she is not born to live somewhere else. She will continue to dream looking at the skies, clouds and sun. But, she knows where she belongs now.
But, I wonder, what would happen if that hand that opened the door,
closed them for the bird?

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She walked slowly in front of the door searching her keys in her bag, so tired from the long trip... as she raised her head , she heard small noises coming from inside the house... Now she was surprised as she didn't expect anyone to be at home at that time of the day... she finally found her keys... waited for a minute, holding her breath. She inserted the key quietly at the door which opened slowly... and then moved towards the bedroom from where the voices were coming... She saw him... - His hands caressed another woman's body. The other woman moaned as the waves of pleasure swept through her. She turned her back to the sight, kicked the table upside down, walked away and never came back... It was a happy home one day...

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The light entered the place, sight of god right into my heart. Warm feeling replaced fright, and I felt His presence, around me, inside me. I would always feel secure… As long as sunlight could touch my eyes.

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"I was back there. It had been ten years. I was too young then, to fully understand. That it would left such a mark.

The place is pretty much the same as I had left it. The walls are still matching the colour of my soul. The broken glass is equal to my heart, unfixable. The only sense of the time that had passed were the leaves, mildewing along with me...

And now, after so much time, after I thought I had moved on, I still feel you. I still love you."

The exterior of this house can be seen here: [link]