March 31, 2025 • 17 mins
'Ghost Story,' the podcast that unearths the spectral secrets from beyond the grave. In each episode, we bring you firsthand accounts of ghostly encounters, as told by those who have experienced the unexplained firsthand. Brace yourself for tales of restless spirits, haunted locations, and inexplicable phenomena. Whether you're a skeptic or a believer, prepare to be captivated by the tales that will send shivers down your spine. Feel free to check out our sister podcasts, Bone Chilling Tales to Keep You Awake Podcast, A Truly Haunted Podcast, Forever Haunted Podcast and True Whispers a True Crime Podcast. See you on the next dreadful episode. #scarystories #realstories #horrorpodcasts are #horrorpodcasts #horrorpodcast #horror #horrormovies #podcast #horrorfilms #horrorfilm #podcasts #horrormovie #film #films #movies #movie #horrorcommunity #horrorfamily #damnedmovies #moviesofthedamned #horrorobsessed #horrorfans #halloween #horrornerd #horrorfanatic #horrorpod #horrorfan #slasher #paranormal #horrorjunkie #horrorpodcaster #horrorgram #horrorcomedy #scarystories #scary #creepy #horrorstories #horror #scaryfacts #creepypasta #creepyfacts #creepystories #creepyfact #scaryfact #horrormovies #halloween #conspiracytheory #conspiracy #horrorstory #scarymovie #scaryposts #conspiracytheories #scarythreads #spooky #scaryvideo #horrorfacts #paranormal #horrorfan #horrors #scarymemes #haunted #horrorfact #ghost Warning: This podcast may be: frightening · scaring · hair-raising · terrifying · petrifying · spine-chilling · bloodcurdling · chilling · horrifying · alarming · appalling · daunting · formidable · fearsome · nerve-racking · unnerving · eerie · sinister #murdermystery #bookstagram #death #buzzfeedunsolved #crimescene #truecrimepodcasts #missingperson #missing #halloween #crimejunkie #news #myfavoritemurder #spooky #supernatural
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:04):
Welcome to the ghost Story, the podcast that on earths
the spectral secrets from beyond the grave. In each episode,
we bring you first hand accounts of ghostly encounters as
told by those who've experienced the unexplained firsthand. Brace yourself
(00:27):
for tales of restless spirits, haunted locations, and inexplicable phenomena.
Whether you're a sceptic or a believer, prepared to be
captivated by the tales that will send shivers down your spine.
Speaker 2 (01:09):
Welcome to ghost Story Podcast. I'm your host, author Eve s. Evans.
I invite you to explore the realm of the supernatural
with me, from haunted houses to ghostly apparitions. We're going
to uncover the secrets behind the unexplained. Join us as
we listen attentively to individuals who have faced the spectral unknown,
(01:30):
sharing their spine chilling experiences and the lingering questions that
still haunt them. Get ready to confront the paranormal and
discover the truth behind each bone chilling tail.
Speaker 3 (01:42):
And with that, let's begin. Wilted. A veil of darkness
hangs over the one's vibrant garden, casting eerie shadows on
the twisted limbs of the ancient trees. My family has
just moved into this old house that feels like a
(02:04):
relic from another time, its secrets buried beneath layers of
dust and overgrown weeds. The air is heavy with decay,
and I can't help but shiver as I wander deeper
into the garden. Anna, are you sure you want to
go out there? It looks creepy, my sister, Sarah says, hesitantly,
(02:28):
her eyes widened with fear. Of course, I reply, trying
to sound braver than I feel. We've got to explore
our new home, right. The scent of damp earth and
rotting leaves fills my nostrils as I step onto the
path that winds through the garden. Chilling breeze kisses my skin,
(02:49):
and the whispers of the past seem to curl around me,
beckoning me further into the gloom. Did you hear that,
I ask, my voice barely above whisper. Sarah nods, her
eyes darting around nervously. It sounded like someone crying. As
we venture deeper into the garden. I can't shake the
(03:11):
feeling that we're being watched. My heart raises in my chest,
and my palms grow slick with sweat. Each night, as
the moon hangs low in the sky, I catch glimpses
of a ghostly figure. She glides between the wilting flowers,
her hands gently caressing the petals as if trying to
revive their fading colors. Her presence sends icy tendrils snaking
(03:36):
down my spine. Yet I find myself drawn to her.
There's something familiar in her eyes, a depth of emotion
that pulls at my heart, urging me to understand her pain.
Anna look, Sarah exclaims one evening, pointing at the spectral
figure that floats among the dying blooms. Who is she?
(03:58):
I wonder aloud, feeling a strange of connection to the
mysterious woman. Maybe she's someone who used to live here,
Sarah suggests, her voice quivering with fear. Do you think
she's trapped? Thought weighs heavily on my mind as I
watch the ghostly figure drift through the garden, her sorrowful
(04:18):
gaze locked on the wilting flowers. The air grows colder,
and I can almost taste a metallic tang of sadness
that seems to emanate from her very being. Hello, I
call out, hesitantly, unsure if she can even hear me.
Can we help you? The ghostly figure pauses, her eyes
(04:39):
meeting mine for the first time. Shiver passes through me.
But I hold my ground. Please, I implore, my voice,
trembling with emotion, tell us your story. A soft, mournful
sigh escapes her lips, and I feel the weight of
her pain settle upon my shoulders. Through the veil of
darkness that separates us, our hearts reach out to one another,
(05:02):
seeking solace and shared suffering. As we stand there, united
by our mutual desire to understand the darkness that has
enveloped this one's beautiful garden, I know that I found
something far more powerful than fear. I've found a connection
that transcends the boundaries of life and death, a love
(05:22):
that will guide us both toward the light. The late
afternoon sun cast long shadows as I make my way
through the overgrown garden, drawn toward a peculiar patch of land.
The soil there is darker, richer, somehow compared to the
rest of the desolate landscape. Vibrant flowers bloom amidst this
(05:43):
eerie oasis, their colors strangely intense in the fading light. Sarah,
look at this, I call out to my sister, who's
been trailing behind me since we first encountered the ghostly figure.
It's as if this small corner has been spared from
the cave, maybe of some kind of miracle, Sarah suggests,
her voice laced with uncertainty. I can't resist the urge
(06:07):
to dig to uncover the secret beneath this fertile soil.
Grabbing a shovel, my hands work feverishly, sweat beating on
my brow as I upturned roots and stones. Suddenly the
shovel strikes something hard, a weathered gravestone, half buried and
cloaked in weeds. Sarah, help me clear this away, I say,
(06:31):
my heart pounding with anticipation. Together we brush away the earth,
revealing the inscription Natalia hawthorn Jill runs down my spine.
My mind raises to connect the dots. Natalia. Could she
be the one haunting this garden? I ask, my voice
barely above a whisper. Who was she? And why is
(06:55):
her stone hidden here among the flowers that seemed to
mourn her absence? Sarah wonders aloud, her eyes wide with fear.
And curiosity. As we linger beside the gravestone garden, whispers
Natalia's name, carried on the wind like a mournful sigh.
I can feel the ghostly presence of the woman I've
(07:15):
seen before, now somehow closer, more connected to me than ever. Natalia,
are you here? I call out, hesitantly, unsuwn if she
can even hear me, can we help you? Sarah adds,
her voice trembling with both fear and determination. The atmosphere
shifts around us, the air heavy with sorrow and expectation,
(07:38):
and then she appears, Natalia Hawthorn, her translucent form shimmering
in the fading light. Who are you, she asks, her
voice as soft as a breeze through the flowers. My
name is Anna, and this is my sister, Sarah, I respond,
(08:00):
struggling to maintain eye contact with ghostly figure. We just
moved into the house and we've seen you in the garden.
Help me, Natalia pleads, her eyes filled with pain and desperation. Please,
of course, I promise, my heart's swelling with compassion for
this tormented soul. We'll do everything we can to help
(08:23):
you find peace. As we stand there, united by our
mutual resolve to uncover the truth of Natalia's tragic past.
I've realized that we've stumbled upon something far more powerful
than fear, a love that transcends the boundaries of life
and death, and a sheer determination to bring light to
the darkness that has consumed this One's vibrant garden. The
(08:45):
wind whispers through the withering branches, a symphony of secrets
carried on each gust. The One's Vibrant Garden is now
draped in shadow. I can't help but feel the weight
of its tragic history each night, as darkness swallows this
I returned to this place, drawn by an inexplicable connection
to Natalia Hawthorne's restless spirit. Natalia, I call out softly,
(09:12):
my breath leaving a cloud of white and the crisp
air I'm here to learn your story. She appears before me,
her ethereal form, emerging from the shadows, like a specter
from the past. Her eyes are pools of sorrow and
longing that I know she desperately craves the peace that
has eluded her for so long. Margaret, she was my sister.
(09:35):
Natalia begins, her voice quivering as if it were a leaf,
clinging to a branch. We were close ones, bound by
love and loyalty, But envy took root in her heart,
festering like a wound. She coveted my beauty, my happiness,
and she poisoned me. Her words hung heavy in the air,
a sharp contrast to her ghostly presence. I'm so sorry,
(09:58):
I whisper, pain in my chest intensifying as her story unfolds,
I can feel her anguish seeping into every crevice of
the garden, settling like frost on the petals of the
dying flowers. Thank you, she murmurs, her voice barely audible
above the rustling leaves. But there's more to my story,
(10:19):
more that must be uncovered. Determined to bring Natalia the
peace she deserves, I spend my days scouring the town's archives,
sifting through centuries old letters and records that smell of
dust and decay. My heart raises with anticipation as I
uncover a hidden letter, the ink fading, but the weight
of Margaret's guilt still palpable on the yellowed parchment. Natalia,
(10:44):
I breathe, my voice trembling as I read the confession
scrawled on the page. I didn't want to hurt you,
but the jealousy consumed me. Now your spirit haunts me,
a reminder of the love we shared and the betrayal
that tore us apart. The words coil around me like
tendrils of ice, tightening their grip and cementing my resolve.
(11:07):
Natalia deserves justice. She deserves to be free from the
torment that has bound her to this forsaken garden for
so long. Natalia, I call out one night, clutching the
letter my shaking hands. I find something. I think it
can help you find peace. The wind whips around me,
stirring the branches above like skeletal fingers, beckoning her forth.
(11:31):
And there she is, her ethereal form, appearing before me,
shimmering in the silver light, her eyes, once filled with sadness,
now blazed with curiosity. Show me, she whispers, her voice
barely audible amongst the creaks and groans of the surrounding trees.
Margaret wrote this. I begin unfolding the letter, carefully, taking
(11:54):
care not to tear the fragile paper. She confesses to
what she did to you in Natalia. She's sorry. As
she reads the words, her eyes widen, and I can fail.
The tension building in the air, electric and heavy, the
world seems to hold its breath, waiting for her response.
Can you forgive her, i asked tentatively, my heart pounding
(12:18):
in my chest. Can you find it within you to
let go of your anger for a moment? The only
sound is the wind sighing through the trees, as if
even the garden itself is mourning Natalia's tragic fate. Then,
slowly the atmosphere begins to shift. The oppressive weight that
(12:38):
has long hung over this place starts to lift, replaced
by a sense of hope. The flowers at her feet,
their wilted petals, shriveled and lifeless, suddenly seem to reach
up towards the moonlight, their colors growing more vibrant with
each passing second. It's as if they are awakening from
a long slumber, eager to embrace the world once more. Perhaps,
(13:01):
Natalia murmurs, her gaze locked on the blossoming flowers. Perhaps
there is a chance for me to find peace after all.
Her sorrow, which has clung to her like a shroud,
begins to dissipate, placed by something lighter and more hopeful.
As she turns to face me, I catch a glimpse
of that hope in her eyes, a flicker of light
(13:21):
amidst the darkness that has surrounded her for so long.
Thank you, she says softly, her voice filled with gratitude
and the promise of a new beginning. Thank you for
helping me say that there is still beauty in this world,
even after all that has happened. And in that moment,
as the moon illuminates our shared triumph over the shadows
(13:42):
of the past, I realize that we have not only
brought life back to this forgotten garden, but also perhaps
to Natalia's weary soul. The soft glow surrounding Natalia's spirit intensifies,
bathing the garden in a gentle, otherworldly light. The warmth
of her when you find peace. What she's over me
like a comforting embrace, as if she's wrapping me in
(14:04):
a loving hug. Thank you, she whispers, her voice reminiscent
of leaves rustling gently in the wind. I'm finally free
from the chains that have bound me to this earth.
Her gratitude sends a shiver down my spine, and I
can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Together,
we've managed to push past the darkness that has haunted
(14:27):
this place for so long. Natalia, I say, my voice
filled with emotion, I promise to honor your memory. This
garden will be a sanctuary of beauty, a testament to
the resilience and enduring power of love. She smiles aside,
both ethereal and heartwarming, and the air around us seems
to come alive. The ones wilted flowers dance in the
(14:50):
gentle breeze, their vibrant colors celebrating Natalia's release from the
sorrow that had held her captive. Thank you, she repeats,
shining with unshed tears. I can finally rest knowing that
you will care for this place that was once so
dear to me. As I watch her spirit begin to fade,
the realization that she is truly at peace settles within me.
(15:14):
I feel a deep sense of responsibility, not only to
the memory of Natalia Hawthorne, but also to the garden
that now teems with life. Goodbye, Natalia, I murmur, feeling
a pang of sadness that her translucent figures slowly vanishes. Goodbye,
she echoes softly, her voice barely audible, and then just
(15:36):
like that, she's gone. I stand alone in the moonlit garden,
surrounded by the riotous color and scent of flowers that
seem to pay tribute to the woman who had once
loved them so dearly. The shadows of the past still linger,
but they are now intertwined with the vibrant life I
vowed to cultivate. Determined to keep my promise, I roll
(15:57):
up my slaves and begin to tend to the garden.
My hands deag into the rich soil, nurturing each plant
with love and care. As I work, I can almost
feel Natalia's spirit watching over me, her presence a gentle
reminder the power of forgiveness, redemption, and love. With each
flower that blooms in remembrance of Natalia, the garden becomes
(16:19):
more than just a place of beauty. It becomes a
symbol of hope, a sanctuary for all who have known
sorrow and loss. And as I watch the moon cast
its silvery light over this hallowed ground, I know that
I've helped to heal not only Natalia's wounded soul, but
my own as well.
Speaker 2 (16:59):
Thank you for tuning in to ghost Story Podcast again.
I'm Eva s Evans, paranormal horror author. I have over
fifty books on Amazon, so if you liked ghost stories
and you liked this podcast, feel free to check them
out on Amazon. They are free on ku. Thank you
and I'll see you in the next episode.
Welcome to the ghost Story, the podcast that on earths
the spectral secrets from beyond the grave. In each episode,
we bring you first hand accounts of ghostly encounters as
told by those who've experienced the unexplained firsthand. Brace yourself
(00:27):
for tales of restless spirits, haunted locations, and inexplicable phenomena.
Whether you're a sceptic or a believer, prepared to be
captivated by the tales that will send shivers down your spine.
Speaker 2 (01:09):
Welcome to ghost Story Podcast. I'm your host, author Eve s. Evans.
I invite you to explore the realm of the supernatural
with me, from haunted houses to ghostly apparitions. We're going
to uncover the secrets behind the unexplained. Join us as
we listen attentively to individuals who have faced the spectral unknown,
(01:30):
sharing their spine chilling experiences and the lingering questions that
still haunt them. Get ready to confront the paranormal and
discover the truth behind each bone chilling tail.
Speaker 3 (01:42):
And with that, let's begin. Wilted. A veil of darkness
hangs over the one's vibrant garden, casting eerie shadows on
the twisted limbs of the ancient trees. My family has
just moved into this old house that feels like a
(02:04):
relic from another time, its secrets buried beneath layers of
dust and overgrown weeds. The air is heavy with decay,
and I can't help but shiver as I wander deeper
into the garden. Anna, are you sure you want to
go out there? It looks creepy, my sister, Sarah says, hesitantly,
(02:28):
her eyes widened with fear. Of course, I reply, trying
to sound braver than I feel. We've got to explore
our new home, right. The scent of damp earth and
rotting leaves fills my nostrils as I step onto the
path that winds through the garden. Chilling breeze kisses my skin,
(02:49):
and the whispers of the past seem to curl around me,
beckoning me further into the gloom. Did you hear that,
I ask, my voice barely above whisper. Sarah nods, her
eyes darting around nervously. It sounded like someone crying. As
we venture deeper into the garden. I can't shake the
(03:11):
feeling that we're being watched. My heart raises in my chest,
and my palms grow slick with sweat. Each night, as
the moon hangs low in the sky, I catch glimpses
of a ghostly figure. She glides between the wilting flowers,
her hands gently caressing the petals as if trying to
revive their fading colors. Her presence sends icy tendrils snaking
(03:36):
down my spine. Yet I find myself drawn to her.
There's something familiar in her eyes, a depth of emotion
that pulls at my heart, urging me to understand her pain.
Anna look, Sarah exclaims one evening, pointing at the spectral
figure that floats among the dying blooms. Who is she?
(03:58):
I wonder aloud, feeling a strange of connection to the
mysterious woman. Maybe she's someone who used to live here,
Sarah suggests, her voice quivering with fear. Do you think
she's trapped? Thought weighs heavily on my mind as I
watch the ghostly figure drift through the garden, her sorrowful
(04:18):
gaze locked on the wilting flowers. The air grows colder,
and I can almost taste a metallic tang of sadness
that seems to emanate from her very being. Hello, I
call out, hesitantly, unsure if she can even hear me.
Can we help you? The ghostly figure pauses, her eyes
(04:39):
meeting mine for the first time. Shiver passes through me.
But I hold my ground. Please, I implore, my voice,
trembling with emotion, tell us your story. A soft, mournful
sigh escapes her lips, and I feel the weight of
her pain settle upon my shoulders. Through the veil of
darkness that separates us, our hearts reach out to one another,
(05:02):
seeking solace and shared suffering. As we stand there, united
by our mutual desire to understand the darkness that has
enveloped this one's beautiful garden, I know that I found
something far more powerful than fear. I've found a connection
that transcends the boundaries of life and death, a love
(05:22):
that will guide us both toward the light. The late
afternoon sun cast long shadows as I make my way
through the overgrown garden, drawn toward a peculiar patch of land.
The soil there is darker, richer, somehow compared to the
rest of the desolate landscape. Vibrant flowers bloom amidst this
(05:43):
eerie oasis, their colors strangely intense in the fading light. Sarah,
look at this, I call out to my sister, who's
been trailing behind me since we first encountered the ghostly figure.
It's as if this small corner has been spared from
the cave, maybe of some kind of miracle, Sarah suggests,
her voice laced with uncertainty. I can't resist the urge
(06:07):
to dig to uncover the secret beneath this fertile soil.
Grabbing a shovel, my hands work feverishly, sweat beating on
my brow as I upturned roots and stones. Suddenly the
shovel strikes something hard, a weathered gravestone, half buried and
cloaked in weeds. Sarah, help me clear this away, I say,
(06:31):
my heart pounding with anticipation. Together we brush away the earth,
revealing the inscription Natalia hawthorn Jill runs down my spine.
My mind raises to connect the dots. Natalia. Could she
be the one haunting this garden? I ask, my voice
barely above a whisper. Who was she? And why is
(06:55):
her stone hidden here among the flowers that seemed to
mourn her absence? Sarah wonders aloud, her eyes wide with fear.
And curiosity. As we linger beside the gravestone garden, whispers
Natalia's name, carried on the wind like a mournful sigh.
I can feel the ghostly presence of the woman I've
(07:15):
seen before, now somehow closer, more connected to me than ever. Natalia,
are you here? I call out, hesitantly, unsuwn if she
can even hear me, can we help you? Sarah adds,
her voice trembling with both fear and determination. The atmosphere
shifts around us, the air heavy with sorrow and expectation,
(07:38):
and then she appears, Natalia Hawthorn, her translucent form shimmering
in the fading light. Who are you, she asks, her
voice as soft as a breeze through the flowers. My
name is Anna, and this is my sister, Sarah, I respond,
(08:00):
struggling to maintain eye contact with ghostly figure. We just
moved into the house and we've seen you in the garden.
Help me, Natalia pleads, her eyes filled with pain and desperation. Please,
of course, I promise, my heart's swelling with compassion for
this tormented soul. We'll do everything we can to help
(08:23):
you find peace. As we stand there, united by our
mutual resolve to uncover the truth of Natalia's tragic past.
I've realized that we've stumbled upon something far more powerful
than fear, a love that transcends the boundaries of life
and death, and a sheer determination to bring light to
the darkness that has consumed this One's vibrant garden. The
(08:45):
wind whispers through the withering branches, a symphony of secrets
carried on each gust. The One's Vibrant Garden is now
draped in shadow. I can't help but feel the weight
of its tragic history each night, as darkness swallows this
I returned to this place, drawn by an inexplicable connection
to Natalia Hawthorne's restless spirit. Natalia, I call out softly,
(09:12):
my breath leaving a cloud of white and the crisp
air I'm here to learn your story. She appears before me,
her ethereal form, emerging from the shadows, like a specter
from the past. Her eyes are pools of sorrow and
longing that I know she desperately craves the peace that
has eluded her for so long. Margaret, she was my sister.
(09:35):
Natalia begins, her voice quivering as if it were a leaf,
clinging to a branch. We were close ones, bound by
love and loyalty, But envy took root in her heart,
festering like a wound. She coveted my beauty, my happiness,
and she poisoned me. Her words hung heavy in the air,
a sharp contrast to her ghostly presence. I'm so sorry,
(09:58):
I whisper, pain in my chest intensifying as her story unfolds,
I can feel her anguish seeping into every crevice of
the garden, settling like frost on the petals of the
dying flowers. Thank you, she murmurs, her voice barely audible
above the rustling leaves. But there's more to my story,
(10:19):
more that must be uncovered. Determined to bring Natalia the
peace she deserves, I spend my days scouring the town's archives,
sifting through centuries old letters and records that smell of
dust and decay. My heart raises with anticipation as I
uncover a hidden letter, the ink fading, but the weight
of Margaret's guilt still palpable on the yellowed parchment. Natalia,
(10:44):
I breathe, my voice trembling as I read the confession
scrawled on the page. I didn't want to hurt you,
but the jealousy consumed me. Now your spirit haunts me,
a reminder of the love we shared and the betrayal
that tore us apart. The words coil around me like
tendrils of ice, tightening their grip and cementing my resolve.
(11:07):
Natalia deserves justice. She deserves to be free from the
torment that has bound her to this forsaken garden for
so long. Natalia, I call out one night, clutching the
letter my shaking hands. I find something. I think it
can help you find peace. The wind whips around me,
stirring the branches above like skeletal fingers, beckoning her forth.
(11:31):
And there she is, her ethereal form, appearing before me,
shimmering in the silver light, her eyes, once filled with sadness,
now blazed with curiosity. Show me, she whispers, her voice
barely audible amongst the creaks and groans of the surrounding trees.
Margaret wrote this. I begin unfolding the letter, carefully, taking
(11:54):
care not to tear the fragile paper. She confesses to
what she did to you in Natalia. She's sorry. As
she reads the words, her eyes widen, and I can fail.
The tension building in the air, electric and heavy, the
world seems to hold its breath, waiting for her response.
Can you forgive her, i asked tentatively, my heart pounding
(12:18):
in my chest. Can you find it within you to
let go of your anger for a moment? The only
sound is the wind sighing through the trees, as if
even the garden itself is mourning Natalia's tragic fate. Then,
slowly the atmosphere begins to shift. The oppressive weight that
(12:38):
has long hung over this place starts to lift, replaced
by a sense of hope. The flowers at her feet,
their wilted petals, shriveled and lifeless, suddenly seem to reach
up towards the moonlight, their colors growing more vibrant with
each passing second. It's as if they are awakening from
a long slumber, eager to embrace the world once more. Perhaps,
(13:01):
Natalia murmurs, her gaze locked on the blossoming flowers. Perhaps
there is a chance for me to find peace after all.
Her sorrow, which has clung to her like a shroud,
begins to dissipate, placed by something lighter and more hopeful.
As she turns to face me, I catch a glimpse
of that hope in her eyes, a flicker of light
(13:21):
amidst the darkness that has surrounded her for so long.
Thank you, she says softly, her voice filled with gratitude
and the promise of a new beginning. Thank you for
helping me say that there is still beauty in this world,
even after all that has happened. And in that moment,
as the moon illuminates our shared triumph over the shadows
(13:42):
of the past, I realize that we have not only
brought life back to this forgotten garden, but also perhaps
to Natalia's weary soul. The soft glow surrounding Natalia's spirit intensifies,
bathing the garden in a gentle, otherworldly light. The warmth
of her when you find peace. What she's over me
like a comforting embrace, as if she's wrapping me in
(14:04):
a loving hug. Thank you, she whispers, her voice reminiscent
of leaves rustling gently in the wind. I'm finally free
from the chains that have bound me to this earth.
Her gratitude sends a shiver down my spine, and I
can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Together,
we've managed to push past the darkness that has haunted
(14:27):
this place for so long. Natalia, I say, my voice
filled with emotion, I promise to honor your memory. This
garden will be a sanctuary of beauty, a testament to
the resilience and enduring power of love. She smiles aside,
both ethereal and heartwarming, and the air around us seems
to come alive. The ones wilted flowers dance in the
(14:50):
gentle breeze, their vibrant colors celebrating Natalia's release from the
sorrow that had held her captive. Thank you, she repeats,
shining with unshed tears. I can finally rest knowing that
you will care for this place that was once so
dear to me. As I watch her spirit begin to fade,
the realization that she is truly at peace settles within me.
(15:14):
I feel a deep sense of responsibility, not only to
the memory of Natalia Hawthorne, but also to the garden
that now teems with life. Goodbye, Natalia, I murmur, feeling
a pang of sadness that her translucent figures slowly vanishes. Goodbye,
she echoes softly, her voice barely audible, and then just
(15:36):
like that, she's gone. I stand alone in the moonlit garden,
surrounded by the riotous color and scent of flowers that
seem to pay tribute to the woman who had once
loved them so dearly. The shadows of the past still linger,
but they are now intertwined with the vibrant life I
vowed to cultivate. Determined to keep my promise, I roll
(15:57):
up my slaves and begin to tend to the garden.
My hands deag into the rich soil, nurturing each plant
with love and care. As I work, I can almost
feel Natalia's spirit watching over me, her presence a gentle
reminder the power of forgiveness, redemption, and love. With each
flower that blooms in remembrance of Natalia, the garden becomes
(16:19):
more than just a place of beauty. It becomes a
symbol of hope, a sanctuary for all who have known
sorrow and loss. And as I watch the moon cast
its silvery light over this hallowed ground, I know that
I've helped to heal not only Natalia's wounded soul, but
my own as well.
Speaker 2 (16:59):
Thank you for tuning in to ghost Story Podcast again.
I'm Eva s Evans, paranormal horror author. I have over
fifty books on Amazon, so if you liked ghost stories
and you liked this podcast, feel free to check them
out on Amazon. They are free on ku. Thank you
and I'll see you in the next episode.
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