The Empty Hall

The feeling of an empty hall was, to others, cold. Unwelcoming, frightening almost, not knowing if you are alone. It wasn't the coldness of the hall that discouraged someone from venturing alone, nor was it the lack of people to talk to, but to many...it was the silence. 

The fear of being lost in your thoughts and seeing what you may unveil, a hall that revealed your darkest truths and innermost fears, was all but none simultaneously. Not to her, the lonesome girl, with no dirt on her to be found. Not a strand of hair was out of place, no loose string, no shine in her eyes, not when she gazed at the empty hall secrets, whispering their sweet temptations.

She wondered, for a brief moment, a forbidden feeling not allowed for a girl of her nature, and despite this, she did nothing to stop the rare moment of something humane. Her fingers felt cold when touching the marble pillars, a collection of dust under her finger. The sight alone made her feel like she was crossing a line. The tenseness of her shoulders increased as she rubbed the dust away, and only a smidge was left of her rebelliousness. 

Faint steps of her boots echoed throughout the hall with every new impending step, a silent threat. She knew if she were found, it would end with her in the cell. Honestly, it was a dangerous hall. Still, her feet would not listen, her neck tingling in warning, and yet her body couldn't resist this pull, this seduction that only she could feel, closer and closer to her path of something foreign.

The hall would listen to this girl walking on its precious, old floor, singing its silent song that few dare to follow, a song this girl could hear. Too long has this hall been witness to the rise and fall of humanity, time and time again, as it was made anew for a new purpose, to serve, to reign, to deem, to entertain, a neverending cycle. The hall was but a hall, but to this girl, who ventured alone, the hall knew everything there was to know. 

The hall was a spectator, and even so, the hall had seen this type of person only once. It was a regret the hall had kept under its cold marble; now, it could be something. A push that only a hall as special as this one could provide. So the hall, in its newfound energy, let the song guide the girl to another part of the hall.

She had been walking for what seemed like hours, but only a few stolen moments of her time, and somehow, she felt like there was something more this hall wasn't telling her. Something the hall was now revealing to only her, and, always right on her conclusion, found an old piano. A truly old piano, caked in dust and stained. She saw this piano and found no resentment, only a feeling she had only felt a few times, a feeling of relief. She almost desperately touched the yellowed white key, and the hall had no longer been silenced. 

The dread that followed was too much for her to handle, so she made her way to leave. The hall had other plans however, when its song played, try as she did, she failed to resist the allure. The keys moved in a melody she had never heard, listening as it told its story, the coldness of the hall shifting to warmth, the marble beginning to glisten with a new purpose. Suddenly, the sound of people was heard, like a message, to her and her only.

At first, she had no visible reaction until the ghosts of people who danced so regally with their partners filled the room. She mustn't look, she mustn't yearn, she could not rebel any further. She was no one, and somehow, despite her logical and survivalist demeanor taking reign of her very soul, her boots had come off. Her heart began to beat with a new sense of purpose, long denied by her standing, and at last, her feet could feel the welcoming cold, glistening floor. 

The hall watched carefully, observing the girl who moved with the ghosts of its people. A time the hall had considered the best of its time. The hall had allowed someone to understand its hope, a ghost of a person, touching the hand of the girl, cold to the touch, and yet the girl found it comforting. The hall had let itself join the dance with another, each step guiding the girl to another part of itself, revealing its history, worries, and most importantly, the hope they kept since the beginning of time.

The girl listened to the hall's tale, her heart finding no movement to act, not at first. Her walls slowly reveal the true, hidden nature of this girl. Bricks built securely by others around her soul had crumbled; now, the girl was leading the person. For the first time, she took charge, her dance revealing her story of how she came to be this way. The hall listened as it danced with the girl, the lights dimming in some areas in sorrow. 

This girl was desperate for something: to be known, to be loved, to be heard, to be seen. The hall thus made a decision, and in a final turn, the girl understood the implications. She was to find a way to comfort the hall, just as it did for her. For too long, the hall had seen atrocities of humanity, and now the girl would fix everything, and in turn, the hall would give the girl a new chance to make herself known. Of this, she promised the empty hall that only in death would she ever stop to regain this beloved hall's purpose.


Hours had gone, and the girl was gone, and the hall laid itself to rest again, the beauty of its walls fading into the shell it was now. The hall did not doubt that this girl would give it back its true purpose, and despite the hall being cold once more, silent and dark to others who stepped into this room, there was a sliver of hope found yet again. The hall would wait for the girl to return just as it had all this time.