Welcome to my Saga

  Yasmine knew that the old brass key that was hidden in the flowerpot was not meant for her, but being a young, curious mind can lead you into places that your sound mind wouldn't dare let you walk into. Yasmine put the key into the door, and as she turned it, it made a soft clicking sound as she let herself in. When Yasmine walked into the ballroom , the dust curled through the air like a ghost of past music.  Yasmine stepped onto the old ballroom floor, which creaked softly under her feet, and in the center of the room sat a violin that had aged centuries. A cold wind pressed against her back, and then soft music started to play as the shadows formed into shapes of dancers. They moved in rhythm, faceless and somewhat graceful in a creepy way. "Dance with us," a soft voice uttered. The voice was like silk. The music played softly in the background as Yasmine's feet started to move without a thought, pulling her into the waltz . She was spinning with her...

       With family and other obligations of survival, her bright pages turned black. The writer of horror and true crime always loved her words hitting the page and sharing her thoughts, but as of late, the only mystery she solved was lurking sleepless nights due to chronic pain and planning kids' games, and with that, her notebooks were collecting dust, and her voice went silent.  Silence does not last forever.      In the corner of her room, the old pages and books sat patiently waiting for new words to be written. One morning, when she awoke, she saw some words on a page that she did not remember writing, but she thought nothing of it. The days have been nothing but jumbled together, so maybe she wrote them herself and doesn't remember.       There were chilling accounts of crimes and horror that she never researched herself that mirrored recent news. The victims mentioned were ones that she had never even heard of… until sh...