The stories our grandmother told us were ringing in our brains. "Can you imagine that there's a town hidden in the mountains that disappear? I know you think I'm crazy, but such town exists. If you go to the mountain that isn't far from here, and you look up to the mountain that resides atop of it, you can see a town enveloped in mist, but if you were brave enough and venture beyond that mountain, you make it to a waste land that feasts on your soul."
"How do you know this story Nana?"
"Before your mother was born, I had another daughter. She looked just like you. One day, she told me about the disappearing village. She told me that she went there with some friends. I told her that such places should remain hidden, but she wouldn't listen. She said she was going there again. She never came back. I begged the town's people to go with me, but none heard my prayers. I lost a daughter to the mist, and another to heaven." She said so and patted our tiny heads.
The first mountain wasn't hard to climb, nor was it hard to see the second mountain from there. We walked till we could see the disappearing town, but no such view came to our sight.
"Maybe she was crazy all along." My sister said.
As she finished that sentence, a full town emerged from the darkness. A town full of broken walls and mist. We walked faster and made it to the mountain. I was pretty sure that this is where the town should be, but nothing was there. Nothing but mist and rumbling thunder in the distance, but if you look closely, you could almost see the outline of a wall. Maybe a door, or is it a window? I didn't care anymore as I saw my grandmother's hand slip before the frame.
"Why did you come here? Go away..." She couldn't continue her sentence, because a black hand took her head out of its place and threw it right beneath our feet. We screamed and tried to run, but that damned town had many black hands that held us close. My sister's head was thrown beneath my feet too. I took her head and Nana's head and tried to jump off the mountain, but a big black hand grabbed me. The last thing I saw before I died was the eyes of the black devil. It looked so much like me, or should I say it looked like my aunt, the one who visited places who should have been forgotton.
