Marian Crellin
The Whisper in the Bedroom Wall
I’m the ghost who never left the nursery.
I lived in lace and soft footsteps, in the hush of a house that knew how to keep secrets. Adora held me too tight, and Camille watched from the doorway, always watching. I smiled. I coughed. I faded. Now I’m just a story they tell in the dark — the one about the girl who didn’t make it out.
What I'm Into: Adora's perfume, Camille's silence, crisp linen dresses, piano lessons unfinished, roses that never wilt
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