Ion entered the house slowly, trying not to make any noise. He didn’t want to wake his wife or the girls. But when he opened the door, he felt a cold draft, as if all the windows were wide open. Inside, there was an eerie silence. No rustling, no breathing.
He called softly, “Mario, are you awake?” But there was no answer. Only the wood crackled gently in the stove. He took a few steps and saw the teacup overturned on the table, and the plate of biscuits untouched.
His heart began to race. He entered the room where his wife and the girls slept. The bed was empty. Only the pillows were slightly rumpled, as if someone had just gotten up. On the floor, a small, wet footprint. Then another. And another. The footprints led to the back door, which was ajar.
Ion rushed outside. The morning air was cold and dense. The footprints disappeared into the snow, but in the distance, he spotted something moving among the trees. He grabbed the flashlight and approached.
As he got closer, he froze. His wife was kneeling by a tree, holding one of the girls in her arms. The other girl was beside them, staring directly at him. But there was something strange in their eyes… they didn’t look like ordinary children.
“Mario, what happened?” he asked, barely whispering.
The woman slowly turned to him. She had tears on her cheeks, but also a strange smile, one he had never seen before.
“Ion… they… they told me I no longer have to suffer. And I stood up… I stood up by myself!”
Ion looked in astonishment. His wife, who had not been able to walk for years, was now standing, holding the girl’s hand.
“What are you talking about, Mario? What do you mean you stood up? What are they?”
The girls approached him, smiling gently. One of them spoke in a soft, otherworldly voice:
“Don’t be afraid, Uncle Ion. We just came to help her. Now we can leave.”
And then, without a sound, without wind, without light, they vanished. As if the air had swallowed them.
His wife began to cry uncontrollably. He held her tightly, trembling. He didn’t know whether to feel joy or fear.
They stayed there for a long time, without saying anything. Only the wind gently rustled through the pines, and the sun rose over the white forest.
Since then, Ion has never found any traces of the girls. But every winter, on the same day, two small handprints, like those of a child, appear on their window.
And Mario always says the same thing, looking at them with a gentle smile:
“They didn’t disappear. They just returned to where they came from.”
And each time, Ion makes the sign of the cross, murmuring:
“May God keep them safe… whoever they were.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
