Short Story: The Cursed Portrait

Its eyes contained an unspoken amount of misery. The deep blue tugged at my heart as it seemed to be filled with unshed tears. The picture of innocence, yet hidden within it was an overwhelming amount of evil… From the hands of the previous owner to the next, no one knew of its origin, nor of its creator. It was even rumoured by some to have been passed down from a witch centuries ago. Yet no one knew why it was there, neither did anyone know the reason behind it.

Holding it in my hands, I felt the need to keep it with me. Keep it safe, away from harm. Though deep down I knew that this decision was one that would leave me full of regret, I could not prevent myself from dropping the portrait and escaping to safety. It was said that the image was of a boy crying at the scene of his house burning down in flames right before his very eyes. I watched on helplessly as the flames crept their way around the walls of the house, trapping me in. This was the reason why no one knew the tale behind the cursed portrait, because those who knew it never lived to tell the tale.

-Fiona Goh (3F)

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