**The Shadows of My Past**

As I walked into the lecture hall, I couldn't help but feel a sense of monotony wash over me. Another day, another lecture on women's history with Professor Harry Greenwood. I had always found his classes engaging, but today, I was struggling to focus. My mind kept wandering back to the ancestral home I still lived in, a place filled with memories of my family and their stories. I was an only child, and the weight of my family's legacy often felt overwhelming. I took my seat in the back of the hall, trying to shake off the distraction. Professor Greenwood, a tall, dark-haired man with piercing green eyes, began his lecture on the contributions of women in the medieval era. I scribbled notes on my pad, trying to stay engaged, but my gaze kept drifting around the room. As the class drew to a close, I gathered my things and followed the crowd out of the hall. The walk home was short, and I found myself lost in thought as I strolled through the familiar streets. I pushed open the creaky gate and made my way up the winding path to my family's old stone manor. The front door creaked as I pushed it open, and I called out for my mother. There was no response. I dropped my bag on the floor and made my way to the kitchen, expecting to find her preparing lunch. Instead, I found her lying on the floor, a look of shock frozen on her face. My heart racing, I rushed to her side and felt for a pulse. There was nothing. I stumbled backward, my mind reeling in shock. I must have stood there for what felt like an eternity, frozen in horror, before I remembered to call for help. The police and ambulance arrived, and the chaos that followed is a blur. I remember being asked questions, trying to stay calm, and feeling like I was in a nightmare. Eventually, they left, and I was alone in the silence of my family's old home. As I wandered through the empty halls, I felt an inexplicable pull to the attic. I hadn't been up there in years, but something drew me to the old trunks and dusty boxes. I climbed the creaky stairs, my heart still heavy with grief. In the attic, I stumbled upon an old book with a strange label: "The Book of Shadows." I hesitated for a moment before opening it. As soon as I did, the lights in the attic flickered, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I quickly closed the book and made my way back downstairs, feeling a sense of unease. I went to bed, trying to process the events of the day, but my mind was racing. The next day, I tried to shake off the feeling of unease and headed to class. As I walked into the lecture hall, Professor Greenwood looked up, and our eyes met for a brief moment. I felt a spark of connection, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the lecture. But as we discussed the women's rights movement, the room suddenly froze. Time seemed to stand still, and I felt like I was the only one who noticed. Professor Greenwood's eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through my body. Then, just as suddenly, time started moving again. I rushed out of class, feeling like I was in a daze. I went home, trying to make sense of what had just happened. As I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Little did I know, my life was about to take a dramatic turn, one that would change everything I thought I knew about myself and my place in the world.