There are places in life that hold more than walls and a roof—they hold pieces of our hearts. For Lala, the old house was not just a home; it was a memory box that whispered stories with every creak of the floorboards. She grew up within those walls, where laughter echoed down the hallways, and where tears were quietly wiped away under the soft glow of familiar lamps. Now, standing in front of the weathered doors, she felt a silent sadness settle deep inside her.
The house had aged with time. The paint, once bright and welcoming, now peeled in faded strips, and the garden where she used to play had grown wild with untamed grass. Yet to Lala, it was still beautiful. She could almost hear the voices of her family calling her name, smell the aroma of meals cooked with love in the kitchen, and see the sun streaming through the curtains just the way it used to. The memories were so vivid they wrapped around her like an embrace.
But reality was harsh—the house would no longer be theirs. Change had come, and with it, the painful truth that some chapters must end. Lala’s silent sadness wasn’t only about losing a building, but about letting go of a time in her life that could never be repeated. The walls had witnessed her childhood dreams, her secrets, her first triumphs, and her moments of despair. To leave it behind felt like losing a part of herself.
Yet, as she stood there, Lala realized the old house had already given her the most precious gift: memories she could carry forever. Even if the structure faded away, the stories, laughter, and love would remain etched in her heart. With one last lingering look, she whispered goodbye, letting her silent sadn
