Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Survival, Secrets, and Struggles Life and Lies in 19th Century Paris Streets #65

Episode Date: August 27, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #historicalhorror #parishorrorstory #19thcenturyparis #survivaltale #darksecrets  In the shadowed alleys of 19th-century Paris, life was unforgiving. Amid poverty, corruption, and whispers of revolution, one survivor navigates lies, betrayal, and buried secrets that could cost everything. This haunting tale blends historical grit with psychological terror, revealing the hidden horrors lurking beneath cobblestone streets and perfumed masks.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, historicalfiction, 19thcenturyparis, streetlife, hiddenlies, revolutionparis, betrayalandtruth, perioddrama, gaslighthorror, gothicparis, classstruggle, survivalhorror, darkpast, historicalmystery, fearinthefog

Hello everyone. Since a few weeks ago, I was working on a new story that hasn't finished yet. I managed to write some chapters and I want to know if it is good enough for me to finish. I appreciate if you rank it for me out of 10 and tell me about suggestions and notices. I hope you enjoy it. The new story. Introduction 1. I know how everything looks for you, but I won't succeed in narrating the story if you keep these thoughts in your mind. I know you would ask me what thoughts I am talking about. Well, just open your window and you will get me.

S skyscrapers, cars, electricity, and men and women scattered in malls with MP3S in hand, rather than streets and parks. I would have loved to tell you about everything in details, but it looks like you already know. You know everything now. I wonder if you like this story called Less Miserables if so I advise you to continue reading. If you read it already then I think you will know everything I am talking about, if not then bring your smartphone you lazy and search for it. I hate how indolent kids are nowadays. I think we will need to stop talking about now and return to the good days of the past. I know they are not good for Alice or Elizabeth, but it is better than the misery some nations are living right now. I think you need to know

something before I start. Without manners, you are not a human deserving to live. Introduction 2. It is It's hard to tell about everything, but this book is not about me. Let me get everything fixed. Alice, Elizabeth, Nicholas, and Sebastian own this story. You will get to know them one by one later, but for now, I want you to read this paragraph then close your eyes and imagine every single word in it. In Paris 1832, everything starts. Streets by then were crowded with people everywhere, poor and rich, men and women, hurried

or strolling. Cheese and perfume was the smell everywhere. Cafes and restaurants were full of sweethearts and older women with wigs taking their afternoon tea. Shopkeepers had their smiles to their ears, they were simply content with people crowded in their shops and the money boxes full with francs. The bourgeois were sitting together discussing their business and politics. Everything was going through that day except for some people. This would continue but not for long. Bourgeois, rich merchants class in Paris asterisk asterisk. Chapter 1. Alice,

the day does not finish just because the sun decided to sleep between the clouds. For me, the work just started. This is Alice Lemoy a girl in Paris. My mother had passed away yesterday from the epidemic diffusing in the country and now I only have my papa left for the family. He is completely atroes. Regularly, he is not even home. But what home am I? talking about? If I was lucky I would sleep under the bridge and this is the home I call. I do not want to think about this Carlos Pear. I hate him and his stup-eyed friends. My job is hopelessly stealing or begging for now since he refused to keep me with him. I can't work, I am a girl who can make me work for him. For this, I need to steal or beg for one or two

francs to get food for my dinner, which usually is a small piece of bread or some rotten carrots. I stroll in Paris at 10 o'clock of the clock. The sun is sinking helplessly in the ocean of the sky. There is no one to aid it, so it just drowns and dies easily leaving the whole sky for the shiny moon. It is hard to see through the streets with no candles in the poor avenues, but when I arrive at the richest streets the night seems luminous and fancy with all the lights. Electricity was not used until late 1800s so they used candles or oil lanterns for lights asterisk-a-a-sterisks. I would be asked what I am doing here, in the richest part of Paris because of my clothing and I tell the same exact lie.

Dash, Mama works in one of the homes and I visit her. Then I turn and leave so simply without any more inspections or even before any more questions are asked. I walk decently and stop then hit any man walking and stretch my hand into his coat. I take his wallet and pardon him for the hitting. Sometimes I think I am telling them sorry for the stealing, not the hitting. I put every single. I put every I steal in the front pocket of my dress so that no one could steal it again. After a dozen of wallets, I decided to return back to the bridge for some sleep before the sun finally find someone to help it from sinking. Through scores of shops and restaurants, I walked and walked without thinking. A few years ago, I used to spend hours looking at the windows of the stores in the richest

part of Paris. I used to imagine myself covered in layers of dainty cloth and having a lot of food around me. I didn't care a bit about toys, I just wanted food and clothes. I used to play with Yuds, my old friend, until sleep time. We used to pretend that he is the king and I am the queen. The stairs of the bridge used to be the ones of the cart for us. I held my dress and walked daintily giving him my hand for help and when I step on the last step, he would kiss my hand and call me, Your Majesty.

We laughed then until our side started to hurt. Last year he died like Mama. I cried my eyes out that day. I remembered his mother that day. She was crying too, but I think she wasn't so concerned about it. She had other six children and she barely had enough food for all. Now that one was gone she would have some more food. I do not blame her for this.

By that time children were not as important for parents as now. Children were abandoned on a fairly regular basis. The lucky ones were dropped off at state-run hospices, where they usually remained until they turned 25. The even unluckier children were forced to live on the streets and fend for themselves. In these cases, children turned to beg and thievery in order to survive, asterisk-asturisk. Now, I only care to stay alive, feed myself, and get out of Papa's way. I stood on the bridge watching the moon duplicating itself on the calm water. The streets are tranquil and I barely see any lights except for the radiant moon.

I like how the city is quiet. I rather prefer it with no people, empty of beast-hearted humans. I stand to beg each one, with my empty stomach and none of them even look in my face this pleading, pale face, instead, they oust me away until I vanish from their sight and after few minutes from their memories. It seems that I have no importance in life, I have no place in anyone's memory. Even father, he sometimes calls me Elsa or Alicia. He does not remember me except if he wants something. Seriously who would leave his 15 years old daughter alone in the street? After all, I am not a kid, but won't he even ask where I am?

He doesn't bother himself to ask unless he wants my help with information or money. Once Pascal, one of my father's friend, the most one I hate and the youngest in the gang, he is maybe in his early twenties, came pleading me to see Papa. When I arrived he was apparently drunk, his smell was awful. Pascal told me he needed somewhere to stay since he can't stroll around the city drunk. Unfortunately, I had to let him sleep with me under the bridge that night. I regret it till now because he was ridiculously smelly. I didn't decide whether this smell was from not showering for at least two weeks or this awful drink.

but he was my father at the end, I didn't want to be like him. I hated him, but I didn't want him to hate his only daughter. I bet he doesn't remember this day, but I do. I know I visited almost every part of Paris and I went to jaw-dropping places, but this old, tired bridge in one of the poorest areas in Paris will stay make the most preferable place to be for me. I wonder why it is, maybe because this the only place I stayed in when I had my most happy and sad moments. When Mama and Yud's died I came here. When Yudz gave me my necklace we were here. When the police chased me they chased me all over to here.

I was lucky I wasn't caught by then. Even when. So look who we have ICI, it was Pascal. He laid his big hands on my shoulders, but I managed to move away. K-Fate 2 ICI Pascal, what am I doing here? I think you should tell me what a lady your age doing at that time of the night. He snaps. I hate when he snaps. Mird. I sighed. I know his wills are not good. Excuse me, I can't see any woman here. I tried to snap back, but I know I can't beat him. Well, I pass for 12 years, apparently, I don't look like a woman. I am short and thin as the stick the school teacher holds. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to go to school. Poor children by 1832 weren't lucky as you are.

They used to wish to go to the school you are nagging about instead of begging. They wished they could read or write, but instead they worked hard to help their families and themselves, asterisk-a-alice. Arit C.A. I don't think you will trick me, young lady. Now tell me why aren't you asleep by now, kids, as you say you are, shall be dreaming by now, he started to get closer now and helplessly I am stuck between him and the edge of the bridge. I can do nothing. Literally nothing. I am stuck. Dash, don't you have work to do, Pascal? I tried to be clever, but I can't think with his body so

close to mine. I can't think with his hazel eyes close to my face. His breath is becoming too disturbing. Dash, well I do, but I think you are more important than work with your papa. He is honestly stupied. I only agreed with his last comment, but I am now quite afraid. He started to get so close, his body large against mine and his breathes firm against my face. Oh, Mondieu. What could I do? I know he is more than good-looking, but trust me he is such a vile.

Call me crazy, but I think I know what to do. Don't wonder much, it is apparent. Chapter 2. Nicholas I am hopeful we will reach can before the sunset. I promised Monsieur Henri Poeper to be in his office tonight in the letter I sent him recently. Luckily, Sebastian, my helper will stay in Paris to manage my work. It is tiring to travel frequently.

I miss Elizabeth, but I do not want to see her. She looks just like her mother, and I don't bear seeing her again. She just left without farewell, she didn't leave a letter. She ran away with her brother. I didn't do her anything. I loved her as ever. She was my life and everything I thought about. I cared about her. I was afraid she will get harmed if she leaves, but she did. Details Nicholas won't mention. One, since he married Adele, he kept her locked in his mansion. He said he was afraid someone will harm or kidnap her because he is one of the richest merchants in Paris. Two, Adele ran away with her brother to England because she couldn't handle staying in the mansion.

Three, he locked his daughter Elizabeth in the same way, asterisk asterisk. This deal with Monsieur Popert is one of the most important steps in my business. I must persuade him to buy bricks from my factories. If he did, I will become one of the most important bourgeois in Paris. Dash Clang! Bang, is all that I heard after I felt my toes above me. It was pain attacking, spreading quickly through my flesh and bones. It was strong, stronger than me and I was defeated again.

If you have any enemy you want to defeat choose any of these four methods. Method.1 anger. People can't control themselves with anger and they will fall quickly without feeling it. Method point two worry. Worry is like pain, but it spreads through the brain. Destroying it. It makes the person be defeated because of himself or herself. because of excess thinking. This apparently includes fear, because fear is a worry. Method.3 pain. It enters the body so simply. No one can resist it. Nothing can stop it except for opium if you have some, but I bet only some do. Opium is a painkiller used in the early 18th century.

Believe me that, surely he will exclude pain from his list if he saw the Panadol tablets in the pharmacy nearby, asterisk asterisk. Method.4 gun. If there is poor or an ordinary annoying you, the answer is so simple. Head to your room, open your drawer and take out the gun. One shot, and your worry vanishes. I know it is difficult for everyone in the country to do this, but it is available for me, so I don't hesitate to do it. Crime was admittedly everywhere in 19th century Paris, and real criminals were certainly dangerous. This caused grave problems for the many poor people who were not criminals, since the upper class viewed them all as that dangerous class, to be held in contempt and ridicule. They might have been the most

hardworking, God-fearing people in Paris, but according to the upper classes, the poor and huddled masses were dangerous and despicable, asterisk-a-sterisk. If he lived in our meantime, he would add nuclear power. Chapter 3. Elizabeth. While her father headed to Cannes, she stayed locked in the giant house like her mother. She never left her home since she first saw the light. She barely talked. She doesn't see anyone except for her servant Flora. Her mother wasn't concerned about her neither she was, so her mother left without her,

and Elizabeth didn't care like her father did. I know she is not ready to talk about herself yet, so I will help you to know everything going on with her. She sits in her room all day, and the food comes on a tray. I think this tray is what makes her want to eat. It was once her grandmother's, the most one she loved in her life. Her grandma was something other than both of her parents. She wasn't as selfish as her mother neither a show off like her papa.

Her mother barely talked to her, she used to think Elizabeth is ill because she doesn't speak and her father made it even worse. They didn't know that everything happening was because of them. Because her father locked her and because her mother never talked to her. It was only the old grandma who loved her honestly, she never left her alone. She told her stories, played with her in the large garden and was not the old woman everyone sees with her, she was a friend. When she died, her son buried her somewhere far from the house and the nearby graveyard,

he wanted Elizabeth to forget her and not cry as much as she did that day for the rest of her life. That day was nothing you want me to talk about. The only thing I could say, she cried her eyes out. and her mother celebrated secretly. Actually, Elizabeth problem is not as serious as everyone thinks it is. She just to have a small phobia. Well, the phobia of people. If everything happened now, she would be cured easily by any of the psychologists. Anthropophobia, phobia of people. It is a long word, so pardon me using PP. I know I am lazy, but what to do I was born in the 21st century. asterisk asterisk. She only needs someone to confront her. She only needs someone

to talk to her frequently. Is it hard, Nicholas? But he doesn't care about her. Chapter 4. Alice. Pascal is literally sticking to me by now, his face buried in my neck. For the first time, I noticed how clean he smelled, nothing like Papa, although they are living in the same building. I can't behold him anymore. I need to flee. I didn't want to feel cold, but it was the only thing I could do. If I ran he would catch me easily, of course, he is faster than me, and if I stayed, I wouldn't rather mention what will happen. I even couldn't move away with hands tight around my waist and his weight all above me.

I started to raise my body up slowly, for him not to feel it. I could feel myself towering above him as I stood on the first step of the bridge railing. He seemed not to feel it, so I climbed another one. I still have only one, I should be fast. I climbed the last one and threw myself off the bridge. For a moment or so, I felt myself flying, the air hitting me fiercely. I liked how it felt. After a few seconds, my whole body was freezing cold I can feel the coldness diving deeply through my bones. I felt pain. I could hear Pascal call. Kinnard, but I didn't mind him at all, and I was satisfied when he left.

I know he won't be as crazy to put himself in the freezing water to catch me. I slept again under the bridge, for the night after I tried my best to rinse my clothes. I know I would be sick because of yesterday's swim, but I tried to discard this idea from my mind. As I woke up, I reached my pocket to get some of the money I stole yesterday to buy food since I was starving by now, but there was none. Not a Frank. Oh no. This canard stole it. If I knew that happened I would have slapped him yesterday.

I have nothing to eat now. I couldn't steal in daylight, I would be caught. I am starving. Papa won't give me a Frank and I don't think I dare to go to Pascal again. I know he would do me nothing with Papa around, but I thought about last mite and shivered. I had to find a solution for my empty stomach. I can't resist my hunger and I went to the cafe, Papa and his friends linger each day. I turned the door open and it was too crowded.

Actually not with men, but with smoke fumes. My eyes caught Papa in the very middle table talking loudly about his plans. Everyone was there even Pascal. I think they were preparing for something. I think Pascal saw me and he started. Oh, look who came, the crazy swimmer. I only managed to roll my eyes at him. But what?

He said it loudly. He told Papa then. He is not afraid to do it again then, even in front of him. What was I thinking about? Papa doesn't even care about me. I stood still and froze in my place. Fee intelligent. Smart girl.

Antoine winked at me. Strong and fierce too, Papa said looking at me directly in the eyes. He smiled at me and I started to falter. His smile, it is the same one, the same one when he smiled at me when he left me home alone and ran away. Then stupid Mama ran after him and we ended up here and like this. Wretched. I know he was planning to do something, um, dangerous. Never even think about it. I almost yelled at him. You need to calm down, Amuru. Sebastian laid his hands on my shoulders.

What? I laughed hysterically, me, your sweetheart. Shut up. You almost raped me yesterday. He gave me a look, a bad one. I calmed down, I didn't want anything that happened yesterday to be repeated again here. I just realized that I was the only female in here. It was just men, big and small, all of them looking, um, no staring at me.

Some winking, smiling, or just glaring amused. I realized I was in and lowered my voice a bit, completely calmed. What do you want from me, Papa? Is she you fee, Charles? A beauty is she, nothing like you. Someone at the back said, Me, a beauty. I was nothing even near to. My dark eyes and brown hair with this pale face and my thin body.

I thought it was sarcasm from this man. man, but it wasn't as I thought. Close your mouth, Gustav, my dad yelled at him and returned to me. We want from you a small favor, Alice. I want to ask him how he remembered me, but I kept it for myself. In return of what? Well, I didn't think about that, but what do you want? Papa asked, I want you to leave me alone.

I looked at him in Pascal, and I want my money back, Pascal. What money are you talking about? Pascal looked at me trying to hide his knowledge. Oh well, Monsieur Thief. Rape me, steal me, and deny it. A good plan, though, not to succeed with me. I raised my voice that everyone started to look at me again. Oh, calm down, Amuro.

He looked at me, his eyes begging to stay silent about it. Don't you dare call me your sweetheart? I yelled. He sat down on one of the old, tired chival. and didn't face me. One of the men, a large on indeed, took my wrist so hard that I couldn't resist it. He was like four times larger than me and I wouldn't dare to scream at him too. Look, girl, he said so calmly, you want to be treated well, you shut your big mouth and stop being fiery, or I think anyone here would enjoy making whatever Pascal did yesterday a good

dream compared to his work. He looked serious. I was frightened by now and I sat on one of the chairs the man offered to me. Thank you. Monsieur was the only thing I could say. Good job Maurice, Pascal said as if mocking me. I wanted to yell at him. I had this desire to slap his beautiful face, but I couldn't. Maurice wasn't joking, and I couldn't do anything risky with him around. What do you want me to do? I asked Papa looking at him directly in the face, into his eyes, these eyes that beat me just as I looked into them. Well, your job isn't so hard. You only need to spy on a man called Theophan Monat. Pascal will take you to his home this afternoon. Oh yes, of course, after I get my money. I eyed Pascal. Pascal come on give her the money. Maurice looked at him. I didn't steal a

thing from this corret. She's lying. He lied. Oh really, then tell me who stole it from the pocket in the front of my dress, a young boy reached to my waist and to them. I yelled mockingly. Your temper young lady. Maurice eyed me. Come on Pascal, don't let me come and take them myself. It seemed that Pascal was afraid of Maurice too that he took out the wallets in his pocket and handed them to me. I checked if there was money in them and yes they were full except for one, but I didn't mind it because I think I got enough money. All the time before that afternoon, I was thinking about the revenge Pascal would probably take by the time I go and see him. I ate well with some of the money I got and left to get some new clothes. It was freezing cold and I only wore a thin

dress. I looked over for cheap things I could afford. I couldn't buy dresses but I could buy other things. At the end it I bought something to keep me warm and left to meet Pascal. A detail Alice won't mention. She brought boys' clothes and a hat to hide her hair. I waited for him in front of the cafe until he came, he changed his clothes too. He wore something more decent. I didn't know he has a lot of clothes, but it seems he benefited from the money I gave him or he stole. He stared at the place for a while and stood like waiting for someone. Maybe he didn't notice me. I went to him and started, Bonjour Pascal. Oh, is that you Alice? He paused and laughed. So you don't like to play the girls roll anymore. Ties Toy. Now close this big mouth and show where is this house. I yelled

angrily. I was already angry with him, but now it seems that it exceeded all the limits. Calm down Alice. He paused. Would like to eat first. No. Show me where is this fucking mansion. I felt myself boiling with anger. My face red and my knuckles pressed turning white. He moved then without looking at me and I followed. Chapter 5. I think you should know some stuff before Sebastian takes the microphone from me. I will try hard to explain everything. I just need you to imagine with me every word I tell you. The guards will open the giant golden door now for Sebastian, Nicholas's helper.

He has some papers to get from Nicholas's office. The only thing you could notice by then would be the three exquisite buildings. All of them in the color of crimson sand. It looked just like the blood on a beach in can 20 years ago. The place is now called Oki Beach. The only thing I know about this accident is that Nicholas killed his first wife. The police said that she killed herself with a knife, but trust me that is wrong. The buildings were guarded by tall green defenders all covered with red balls.

I bet they would be so delectable for tasters. The ground by then wasn't as green as a few months ago. It is starting to get really cold. You can find small bushes, they seem to be the sons of the guards. The house wasn't weird or fascinating. It was just imprisoned by the guards and the tall fence. It had immense windows and a massive golden door. If you turned your head a bit left, you will find a small fountain.

It is not impressive, but at that time it was. The main building was used by a small door. Elizabeth and Nicholas. The smaller one was for the maids, drivers, and guards. The last one had horses, a lot of them actually. Nicholas liked them so they stayed. One more note. Alice is not as innocent as she makes you think. Nicholas is not as mean as he looks. Elizabeth is not as isolated as you think. Pascal is not as vile what Alice said. Maurice is not as savage as how he looks. Sebastian is the most mysterious of all. Chapter 6. Sebastian. Everything became a mess when Monsieur Allen traveled. He left everything to me. I couldn't handle it anymore. How could he?

I entered the gates of his mansion to bring some papers from his office. I walked through the mass of greenness on both sides of the route to the Golden Gate. Then I saw something moving above the gate, something moving behind the window. The door was opened by one of the guards and I entered. The staircase was filled with pictures of people. I only realized Monsieur Allen sitting with a smile. It was weird of him smiling, but I didn't care about it that much and I continued upstairs. There was no one and all of the doors were closed. I tried one by one until I opened the most elegant door in the aisle and I knew now who I have seen in the window. She was a girl, no, a young lady. Her hair smooth as silk, long, black exceeding her waist.

When she turned her face toward me I saw her icy blue eyes. Wild and strange, but sweet at the same time. Her face was white, but not pale. Her beauty was out of usual for me. It was nothing I've ever seen. It was a unique beauty, but it only lasted for seconds. Her face started blushing unusually red and her breath fastened. Suddenly she started sweating and she looked nervous as ever. I tried to get near to her as a comfort, but she resisted any. She called someone, I couldn't understand what is happening here anymore. Then someone came, she was a mid-aged woman, or a biddy maybe.

She was apparently running since she couldn't catch her breath. She went beside the girl to calm her and she seated her on the bed and murmured things I couldn't hear. She left her slowly, pushed me out of the room, and closed the door. What in the world were you doing here, Monsieur? Who are you a thief, I guess? Leave before I call the police. I, I, I struggled for words but I should say something. She is angry.

I was looking for Monsieur Allen's office. I was supposed to bring some papers. Oh, she paused, you should be. be Sebastian. I am sorry for my accuse monsieur, never mind madam. It was all I could say. Mademoiselle, or forget about it. Call me Flora. Well, Flora, could I go to the office now? Yes, of course. Follow me. We walked and walked. Flora in front and me following her. I walked slowly, towering above her. I thought about her words, thief and police. Maybe I deserve police, but I am not a thief.

Do I really look like a thief? The words blurted out before I could stop them. Sorry for the thief accuse, but maybe yes you somehow do if we excluded your face because it doesn't show a thief, it shows a gentleman. Then I should change my face to suit my clothes. I tried to break some barriers between us. At the end, I don't want her to think I am just a boy whom Monsieur Allen pitted and gave him work. I don't even want to remember this. A detail Sebastian won't mention, years ago, when Sebastian was nearly Gabriel age when he died,

he would join us soon just give me some paragraphs, he was once begging in one of the streets and then he fell near Nicholas's feet because of hunger. Nicholas took him that day and made him work with him and years later he became as one of the most important helpers, asterisk asterisk. Oh, not you silly. She laughed, not tempered anymore. I think we need to change your clothes, follow me. I didn't think she took it seriously, but when we entered a large room with clothes everywhere, I knew she wasn't joking. She opened a box with a suit in it.

It was glamorous and shining clean, unlike his clothes. Now go and try it in the room, I bet it is your size. She handed me the box and I did as I was told. I didn't think much about suit, nor flora. I thought about this girl in the room. She is someone I would like dating for now, but what is wrong with her? Is she mad? I left the room with this suit on and saw myself on the nearby mirror.

It was my first time to wear such expensive clothes. I looked like someone from the royal family. The suit was perfectly my size, as Flora said. When she entered the room the basket she was holding fell down from her hands and she stared at me. I thought she was about to cry, but I had no idea why. I can't behold anyone crying, I turn anxious, so I tried to be comical. King Charles is me. I lowered myself, my knees on the ground, holding her hand, I smiled at her tired face.

Would you marry me, Princess Flora? Would you become my queen? I looked serious or I was trying to, but then she started to laugh and I joined her too. I was relieved there were no tears in her eyes anymore. You better stand up King Charles before your clothes get dirty. Certainly, your majesty. I stood up and looked at her now from a different angle, now towering above her again. She looked at me and held the pockets of the coat and pulled me toward her.

I saw that her eyes flooded again in tears. You look just like my brother, she hugged me tight then she retreated noticing I wasn't him. I am sorry. She said blushing. I hope you didn't mind it. I didn't want to ask her about the brother because I think I knew the answer. No, not really. I felt my cheeks firing red too.

You could keep the suit if you want, there is no one this size here to wear it and I was going to throw it anyways. How would anyone throw such a thing I thought? But I rather wanted to ask about the papers we didn't still get, and the girl. So where is the office, Your Highness? Oh, I totally forgot about it. Wear your clothes and then we would go. We entered the office and I froze in my place mouth opened. I have never seen anything like this in my life.

The walls, the ceiling, the floor, the office, the chairs, everything was colored with wood brown. Nothing like the one of my home, if you walked on it a bit and cautious it will break under your feet. On both of my sides, large shelves covered the walls. books and books filled everything. Red, black, and every color made the covers of the books. Books were the only thing I longed for since childhood. I used to be taught reading and writing at the charity carehouse in my village before I moved to Paris. I wanted books, but I could find none for free, I needed money for them, and I had none spare.

Papa claimed food was more crucial than books when I told him about books. I don't want to remember him because, never mind. To be continued.