Wordsmiths Fiction Week 3: Season 24 – The Last Photo

Nadeesha was not like other girls in her village. She walked deep into the forest with her camera for photograph. She loved the natural world. Her photos were stunning. She had even won awards in school for her wildlife photography.

One bright morning before the sun had even risen she stepped outside. “I’m taking a new trail today,” she told her younger brother, Dilan. “They say there is a secret lake hidden deep in the forest. I want to be the first to photograph it.”

Image by Dariusz Sankowski from Pixabay

“Be careful,” Dilan warned. “Don’t go too far.” But Nadeesha just smiled and walked away. That night she did not come back. At first her family thought she might be staying with friends. But as the hours passed and darkness covered the village, worry turned to fear. The villagers organized a search team. With torches and sticks, they went into the forest, shouting her name.

They searched all night. The next morning one of the men found something near an old tree with twisted roots. It was Nadeesha’s camera. Everyone gathered around as he opened it. The camera was slightly scratched but still working. The memory card was intact. Hoping for clues, they scrolled through the photos.

There were pictures of the trail, birds flying, deer crossing a stream… and then, the final photo froze everyone. It was a picture of a wooden hut. Old, broken, hidden in shadows and in front of the door stood a tall figure. The figure was only half-visible, like it had moved while the photo was being taken. It wore something dark and its face was mostly covered.

No one recognized the hut. No one recognized the figure. The village elders shook their heads. “There are places in this forest even hunters don’t go,” one whispered. “Places with stories.” Some of the older villagers remembered hearing about a “ghost hut” deep in the jungle. Hunters who went that way never returned. Most thought it was just a tale to scare children. But now, with Nadeesha missing, everyone grew silent.

Still, her family didn’t give up. Dilan, her brother, was only 14, but brave. He couldn’t sleep. He kept looking at the photo, zooming in on the figure. Something about the way the person stood felt… strange. Not like an animal. Not like a human either. He decided to go back into the forest. Alone.

Before sunrise he slipped out of the house with a flashlight and Nadeesha’s camera. He retraced her steps as best as he could. He followed the trail she had marked in one of her notebooks. Hours passed. He was scared, but he kept walking. Then just before noon he saw it the same wooden hut from the photo. Hidden between thick trees and covered in vines. His heart pounded in his chest.

The hut looked abandoned. But something told him he wasn’t alone. “Hello?” he called. Silence. He stepped closer. The wooden door was slightly open. He pushed it carefully and peered inside.

There was a faint smell of earth and smoke. Inside it was dark and dusty. Old furniture lay broken. Strange symbols were scratched into the walls. And in the corner something glowed faintly.

It was a mirror? No. Not a mirror. It looked like a shimmering curtain of light floating in the air. Suddenly behind him the door slammed shut. Dilan turned, terrified. Standing near the doorway was the tall figure just like in the photo. But now Dilan saw it clearly.

It wasn’t a monster. It was a man. An old man with wild hair, long beard, and eyes that looked too tired for his age. “Who are you?” Dilan asked stepping back. “I am the guardian,” the man said softly.

“That light it’s not a mirror. It’s a portal,” the man explained. “To a world that exists next to ours. A hidden realm. Some who enter it never return.” Dilan’s voice trembled. “Is my sister there?”

The man nodded slowly. “She took a photo of the hut. The flash woke the portal. It called her. She was curious and stepped through.”

“Can I bring her back?” The man looked sad. “Only if you have a strong memory. Something powerful. Something that connects you to her.” Dilan closed his eyes. He remembered how Nadeesha taught him to use a camera. How she laughed when he tripped on vines. How she shared her snacks even when he didn’t ask.

“I want her back,” he said, walking toward the glowing curtain. “Be careful,” the man whispered. Dilan stepped through. For a moment, there was only light. Then trees. Strange trees. The sky was purple. The air buzzed with soft sounds. And in the distance, standing near a glowing lake, was Nadeesha.

“Dilan?” she shouted running toward him. They hugged tightly. “How did you find me?” she asked. “I followed your last photo,” he said, smiling. They turned back toward the curtain of light. Hand in hand, they stepped through. When they returned, the hut was quiet. The old man was gone. The forest felt normal again.

Dilan and Nadeesha walked home safe. The village cheered. They never told anyone what really happened inside the hut. But from that day Nadeesha never entered the forest alone again. And she never took pictures of unknown places especially if they seemed too quiet to be real.

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I invite @afzalqamar, @wuddi and @chant to join this contest.