A Mysterious Place - Sevenoaks School 11+ - 2022

A Mysterious Place

Beyond the last cottage stood a garden that nobody entered. Its iron gate leaned between two crumbling pillars, almost hidden beneath ivy. The rusty bell beside it had no rope, and the words on a crooked wooden sign had been worn away by years of rain.

A narrow path disappeared beneath enormous ferns. Above it, branches met like the ribs of a dark green tunnel, allowing only thin shafts of afternoon light to reach the ground. The air was cool and smelled of damp stone, although the village beyond the gate was hot and dusty. Somewhere farther in, water dripped at perfectly regular intervals.

At the end of the path stood a greenhouse. Most of its panes were filmed with grime, yet one shone cleanly enough to reflect the trees behind me. In the reflection, however, there seemed to be a wooden chair beside the path. I turned around. There was only tangled grass.

Inside, empty flowerpots lined the shelves in orderly rows. A blue cup stood on a table, its rim catching the last light. Beside it lay a notebook, open beneath a layer of settled dust. The pages were blank except for a single heading: Visitors.

Everything was motionless. Even the leaves outside had stopped stirring. Then, from the far corner of the greenhouse, came the slow scrape of something wooden against the floor.

The garden remained beautiful in its wild, neglected way, but its silence no longer felt empty. It felt as though somebody were listening.