Young Writers Society

On November 13, 1946, in the midst of a cold, Gati was born into a world of wealth and privilege. His father, a powerful and inflexible aluminum factory owner, was a man who believed in power, control, and he was an iron-hearted tyranny. Their mansion, a great stone and marble abode representing their immense wealth. Yet,for Gati, it was a prison keeping him in the dark of his father's unyielding dream.......

As a young boy, Gati felt the oppressive weight of his father’s expectations. his mother was the only warmth he had. But tragedy struck at age ten; on 16 June 1956 Gati's mother died suddenly......, when Gati was just ten, leaving him entirely alone with the domineering figure who ruled every aspect of his life. Her passing turned the estate into a colder, emptier place, where even the memory of laughter was erased....... From that day on, Gati’s life became one of strict obedience and ceaseless instruction in his father’s office, where he learned the ruthless ways of business, finance, and industry. For Gati, the days were devoid of joy, and the nights were filled with an aching loneliness......

Growing up in the oppressive climate of the 1950s and early 60s, Gati felt increasingly disconnected from the world outside. It was a time of rapid social changes, a period when youth around the world were beginning to embrace new ideals of freedom, art, and rebellion. However, such Ideas were strictly prohibited by his father. No talk of freedom or poetry, no echo of rebellion but the boring routine now an lasting expectation that Gati should eventually take over the family’s legacy......

Gati found relief only in the prohibited books he would steal. is own father wrote off literature as a waste of time, mere fantasy....... he was too grounded in reality for his son to impress. But for Gati, the novels and poems hidden under the floorboards of his room were a hope. By reading late into the night, he journeyed to far-off places, experienced forbidden loves, and found companionship in the fictional characters that filled his imagination. Literature allowed Gati to feel, even if only briefly, a world beyond his own cold existence.......

One evening that changed everything was when Gatis father stumbled upon his stash of books by chance. His father was furious. Brought Gati to the living room where he mercilessly threw each book into the roaring fire of the marble fireplace. The smell of scorched paper filled the air as Gati watched in despair as his beloved books turned into nothing but ashes. A memory etched within his soul, for eternity.........

"You will learn to be a man," his father snapped, "not waste your life on these foolish fantasies."

As time passed and he changed into his adult years Gati felt imprisoned in the path his father had mapped out for him. However between the borders of his life a flicker of warmth continued. Victoria. She possessed a writers spirit, Kind-hearted, her love, for language echoing with Gatis passion for literature. Their happy accident encounter took place at a quaint bookstore in town, where their mutual admiration, for Rilke and Whitman triggered a connection. Victorias vibrant gaze and charming grin gave Gati a feeling he had never experienced before. A love that was genuine and real. She symbolized a realm where he could find freedom beyond the confining walls of the estate. However their affection had to be kept secret since Gati was aware that his father would not accept a writer, as his sons partner......

For a short time, Gati’s life was filled with a secret happiness. He would meet Victoria in hidden corners of the estate, sharing whispered dreams and stolen kisses. They talked about escaping, about building a life filled with love and creativity, far away from his father. But their happiness was not meant to last. In 1968, Gati’s father discovered their secret......

Furious at the thought of his son’s disobedience, Gati’s father designed a cruel scheme to rid his son of the "distraction." Using his influence, he had Victoria falsely accused of Scheme to Commit Murder, ensuring the local authorities acted quickly. She was dragged away in chains, wrongfully condemned for a crime she did not commit. Gati was helpless to stop it..... his father’s power extended into every side of the community. The justice system was rigged against her.......

On the day Victoria faced her executioners blade, with Gati observing from the shadows his shattered spirit mirrored her tragic fate as the axe dropped with an end that seemed to tear his heart in two. The sole beacon of joy......, in his existence extinguished by the ruthless hand of the one who held power over every beat of his heart.

Gati went into a severe depression after losing Victoria. His life force had been drained, and all emotion in him was now twisted rage covered in grief he would never overcome. He roamed the facility like a ghost, but of his former self. His father again raced past him down, maintaining dominion over Gati with an iciness that belied all awareness of injury. Gati resolved to escape, not for his sorrow of loss but out of hatred so that he could break free from the chains in which beckoning by father.

It was November 13, 1968 — Gati's twenty-second birthday and a day that would become marked in the history of this estate. He ended it in the room where his father once burned his most beloved books, knowing he could no longer bear a shattered heart. Finally, in his final moments he dies with the idea that death would be peace for him and she (Victoria) was there waiting for him.

But death was no escape for Gati....

Instead, his spirit was bound to the place he endured so much pain. That unsatisfied grief, that dislike for his father and his torment of Victoria’s death filled him with darkness and malice. Gati’s spirit could not rest. He became a restive spirit in that mansion which was once his prison, upset and unforgiving.....

It was not only cold because of the weather that pervaded over the estate, it was Gati entering every shadow and corner. People saying forbidding instant within mansion itself felt swelled with fear, as yet the calls on from the walls nay whispered of tragedies contiguous gloomy past. Cast as the spirit of war, Gati came to be tied to revenge and hatred, seeking anyone like his father to torture who showed the same heartless pride, weaving cruel judgment through violence. Others would sense a coldness brushing against them in the night, others would hear soft voices in the dark, and, sometimes briefly behold someone looming over their side of bed, casting sad eyes.....

Soon the legend of Gati’s ghost grew over the years. They say he is a spirit of revenge, forever bound to the halls of the estate, a ghost in pursuit of justice. But in the midst of all of that horrifying madness, for brief glimpses there were times when the house would go quiet, and another kind of spirit could be sensed, gentle and gentle spirit, like Victoria herself had not left after all but rather chosen to offer some small reprieve to a soul so clearly tormented.

But Gati never found that fleeting peace. His tale, like the revealing the word he had so long adored, was one of gloom, desire and sorrow. By the aesthetic of due structure over heart, his soul was forced to remain there within the estate, as that of unreturned, imprisoned in absence of touch promised by those who praised beauty before their peers, recited upon paintings and limestone statues, carved from wood and marble under orders, a story familiar both outside the mind and inside it.