On the way to the next tourist attraction in our holiday plan, the bus suddenly refused to move forward anymore. In the middle of the day, a mist with purplish iridescents, resembling a fog, suddenly enveloped the surroundings of the medieval castle we were near. I took the child who was showing signs of boredom and set off with her towards the stairs of the castle, leaving the driver to quietly craft.
From the shards of conversation of the other visitors it emerged that, in fact, the castle's green labyrinth, of real, blooming lilac, was the real attraction of the place. The farther I walked away from the main entrance, the more the purplish fog spread the springy smell of the lilac in bloom.
The child came down from my arms upon hearing the cheerful giggles of the children and ventured into the purple labyrinth. The supervisor assured me that there was no danger, as there was only one exit and urged me to visit the castle with a wide and reassuring smile. The guide was just explaining visitors’ spicy details about the history of the place. I found the story of the castellan's daughter fascinating, a little girl having an innate musical talent, too spoiled by her parents, who had lost her life in the prime of her life, following an accident, when she was playing with her favourite toy.
Suddenly, the piano keys, from the purple room we were in, began to move on their own, driven by an unseen, clumsy hand, as if a child was playing, practicing flashy musical notes. The guide was confused, silent, looking at the video camera of the room, and a grave and unearthly silence, settled into the room. The curtains of the room fluttered vigorously, thinning the air with creeps of ice and causing the slamming of the door and the flickering of the candles. I was convinced it was a well-directed trick for tourist profits, but the guide mentioned to quietly leave the room. In the next room, he explained to us, in a low and precipitous voice, that such manifestations take place from time to time, for which the place was famous, and that the phenomena had been studied by specialists in paranormal activities, who had investigated, but could not prove it. My only thought was to recover my child from the maze! On my way out I got to see a portrait of the castellan's daughter, erased by the passing of time, but smiling to the eternity of posterity, with sunny lilac flowers in one ear. When I saw the child's blond hair curling as if it had been blown by the wind I felt the horror engulfing me at the idea that I had left my child alone in a haunted place!
The other children cheerfully walked out of the labyrinth, with red cheeks after so long running away, and they walked away regretfully, looking fascinated behind. Mine finally came out, victoriously carrying a piano toy under her arm; I nodded at the sight of the toy, convinced that it belonged to another child. She didn't want to let go the piano toy, so I took her in my arms and hurried to the bus, which I found out with surprise that he hadn't had any malfunctions. I had somehow managed to distract her and I left the toy on a bench towards the exit.
The child told me that she had played with a little girl in the labyrinth, named Lilly, that she had a very long purple dress, almost touching the ground, made by her mother, that I really had to make her one of the same, that she taught her favorite song and that she also gave her the piano toy. I looked closely at all the little girls on the bus, hoping that she had played with any of them. I cursed in my mind the modernist tendency to dress the girls in pants when I found no trace of purple dress on the bus. When she had showed me how well had retained the song, a shiver of ice froze my blood: the piano toy was in my child's arms and it was the same melody heard inside the castle, from the haunted room! To my great horror, the child added that she is very excited that the toy will sing on its own if she forgets the song! As I stunned plans to get rid of the toy, the bus set off, and my child was weaving her hand to someone from the outside. At one of the windows of the castle, a child with lilac at one of her ears, made signs of farewell to the children from the bus. Although she was quite far away, the child was unnaturally white, appearing to be a shadow in purple dress. I realized in an instant the resemblance with the photo in the purple room and I thought bitterly about all the efforts of the scientific team to document the appearances and explain the purplish fog, and my first thought was that I really had to go to church.
Surely, this scary experience has cut off all my mood for future expeditions to medieval castles!