The Whispering River

In a quiet village surrounded by mountains, there was a river that no one dared to cross. The villagers said it whispered secrets in the night, and those who listened too closely never returned. Leah had heard the stories since childhood, but she never believed them. One evening, as the sun set behind the peaks, she wandered toward the riverbank. The water shimmered in the fading light, and faint whispers drifted on the breeze. Curiosity got the better of her. She stepped closer, crouching by the edge, straining to hear. At first, the whispers were soft, unintelligible. But then, they formed words—calling her name. Leah’s heart pounded as she stood, staring across the darkening water. Without thinking, she stepped into the river, feeling the cool current pull at her feet. The whispers grew louder, wrapping around her, pulling her deeper into the flow. For a moment, she fought against it, but the voices were soothing, comforting. She let herself be carried away. By morning, Leah was gone. The villagers found her shoes by the riverbank, but there was no sign of her. Some said the river had taken her, and if you listened closely at night, you could hear her voice among the whispers.