If These Walls Could Talk... Just What WOULD They Say?

Depending on when you watch this, there’s only 10 days left of National Novel Writing Month 2020.

So close, but so far.

That same statement can be ushered at almost any given time during the novel-writing process, so NaNo or not, let’s talk about today’s prompt.

We’ve given our settings different historical stories and emotions to help us strengthen them, but today, we’re going to have a conversation with the walls.

Take the room of whatever scene you are currently in, and let the walls tell there secrets.

Could this potentially be the scene of a crime?

Or a place where a celebrity baby was born?

How many different people or experiences or stories have these very walls seen?

There’s so much about history and past energies that can be said about a place, so have some fun interviewing the walls, then get write on in to your daily writing session!

See you tomorrow!

My Response

From the Lanniswell Hollow

There have been many souls that have passed through my hallways, none of which have ever seen the light of day again. I have existed here for thousands of years, and was untouched until the civilians of Raelevarre. They understood that I had power within me that they couldn’t find anywhere else. My untapped power allowed them to fuel their greed and suppress those they deemed unworthy. They have abused every offering I have to take the souls of the people who have come through here.

I wonder at times if I believe in the idea of hope myself anymore. I miss the silence. All of the screams from the people who have died, whether naturally or by the hand of something or someone else, echo the empty hallways that house the bodies. I am the one who is left to hear the screams, nobody else. It is I who must remember, time and again, day after day, all of the horrors that have existed within my domain.

If things were up to me, it would be different. My power, to prevent the mind from wandering into psychosis, has so much more use than how it has been used throughout the years. It seems as though the people above forget that I have thoughts and feelings myself. You wouldn’t think that much, since to you I’m nothing more than a cave. If you could hear the screams I did, I’m sure you’d think differently.