Lullaby Manor: A Random TikTok Generator Short Story

Another One...

This year I set aside time to work on more of my short story ideas since the last two years I'd only written one or two of them. This story isn't based of my normal random generator challenge, but an idea I thought of while watching Tiktok. I came across a man playing a song he had composed on the piano. It really moved me and instantly I thought of this story idea.

If the story turns out good then I might use Tiktok as a way to write another random story I wouldn't have thought of before.

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Lullaby Manor

Lullaby Manor sat, hidden amongst the woods in the small seaside town of Bryor Bay. A bed and breakfast one couldn't pass up said multiple tourist websites as well as the endless five star reviews associated with it.

But when the Pedal family pulled in Erin couldn't be more disappointed. Yes, the manor was set on beautiful grounds, it's three story architecture giving character one would only desire to have in their home, but there was a looming greyness about it. A filter that hadn't seen daylight in many years. The only word that came to Erin's mind in that moment was boggieness. The placed felt bogged down.

Upon entering they were greeted with white smile from what was only assumed as the owners. It was family owned and had been for many generations according to the About Us page. While reservations were being double checked Erin couldn't overhear but a soft lullaby humming from somewhere in the manor. Leaving her family and luggage behind she set out to find it.

Music drifted down the hall as if the notes were slow dancing with each other. Intertwined like lovers. Soft and elegant in their steps. The echoing of her marble footsteps blending in with them as if it written into the piece. Each step mirroring the notes she followed.

The girl was getting closer now, a door at the end of the hall stood a jar. As she neared, the music shifted. The lightness becoming dark and tense with fever. The notes quarreling with each other on who should play next. Hand pressed against the door, she felt the wood creak with age. Swinging open, the girl stepped in the notes even louder and angrier then before.

Darker than the rest of the manor, candles filled the room casting shadows against the young man sitting at the piano. His shoulders frantically moving, his fingers darting from one key to the next. Chaos, excitement, and a slight chill in the glow of his shadows filled the room.

As quickly as the notes turned against each other, they took a breath, his hands hovering over the keys. Pressing one, and then the next, the notes holding the feeling of loneliness he allowed them once more to reunite. Their slow dance to become one until there was no story left to tell.

The flames flickering cast the young man’s shadows across the wall his hands resting in his lap.

“Hauntingly beautiful,” she said, wiping a tear she didn’t know escaped her eye.

The young man shifted, looking over his shoulder. A glow cast across his face, eyes soft.

“Erin, come on,” her sister’s voice rang down the hall. Erin turned to see her family grabbing their luggage and making their way to the grand staircase. When she glanced back, the boy was still staring at her. She gave a slight smile, nodding her head in appreciation before turning to follow after them.

“As are you,” he said under his breath before turning to compose a new melody.

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On the last hovering notes, he heard what seemed to be a page of a book turning. He glanced in the direction to find Erin sat upright, her legs lounging across the cushions, ankles crossed. A leatherbound notebook perched in her lap to which she scribbled.

“How long have you been there?” He asked, shifting his weight to look at her. He already knew the answer though as a half cup of tea sat on the table beside her and her cheeks sported a rosy glow, evident from the heat of the fire.

She continued to write, the pen flying over the page. The once blank page, splattered in ink before she sighed placing the final punctuation mark.

Looking up, she answered, “A while,” before turning back to her work. Crossing out words to replace them with others.

He nodded his head, watching as she scribbled, the pen almost empty of ink. She drew the pen across her tongue giving it a second life. “I don’t take well to audiences,” he replied, clearing his throat for her to take the hint.

Her eyes furrowed but not at his response. She leaned forward bringing her legs under her into a crisscross. “Ah,” she pointed to the page, circling the paragraph. She drew an arrow upwards showing whatever she had written did not belong there.

“You’re missing a part,” she finally said looking up at him again. His eyes narrowed, wondering. “From your song, I mean. Right after the lull, it goes into another lull and stays there. It isn’t right. It needs to have a slow upbeat. There needs to be something there, like… like..” she paused her arms stretched out eyes searching for the right words.

“Hope,” he said.

“Yes. Hope.”

“And what are you writing that makes you think this?” He questioned.

“Your story. I mean the one you're playing. I’m putting into words the story you are telling through the keys.” She pointed her pen to the piano.

“My story,” he mumbled placing a hand on the ivory gliding his fingers across them. He always loved the feeling of the smooth, cold keys below his fingertips. They brought a calmness to him even when pouring out ballads of intensity.

“Yes, your story. In this case, the tale of star-crossed lovers, who fell from the night sky. Their tails dying out as they streak in opposite directions across the darkness. Their light fading the further they get away from each other. That’s your lull. But see, they shine brighter when they are together. They're meant to be together, but your song, it’s missing the most important part. Instead, they continue into the darkness losing each other forever. But star cross lovers aren’t meant to lose each other they are meant to find each other in the end. That's the part you're missing, their reunion.”

“Did I mention before, I don’t take well to audiences?” But once again she wasn’t listening. Instead, she stood, stepping closer to him. “Here, read it for yourself.”

She handed over the journal. There weren’t many pages left, he assumed the others were filled with similar stories to this. He flipped back a few until he found the beginning, reading his translated work. He squinted, the dull light of the candles making it hard to read.

“What if I don’t like happy endings?” He asked handing back the notebook. He didn’t loosen his grip but instead held onto it, looking into her eyes for her answer.

“Well,” she shifted her weight staring at her work, “then, all your stories, or in this case songs, will eventually become predictable.”

He let go, she closing it and holding it to her chest. A cold silence filled the room which had been radiating with heat moments ago.

“I got to go, my parents are probably wondering where I’m at.” She grabbed her tea and bag which had been hiding beneath the table. He watched as her red hair fell shielding her face. “Think about it,” she called over her shoulder stuffing the journal into her bag and sliding out of the door that never shut fully.

He didn’t need think about it though because he knew exactly how the ending played out. Instead, he wondered how she portrayed almost word for word the dream he'd had the night before of two star-crossed lovers falling from the night sky as well as where to get a lock for that damn door.

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Final Thoughts

You are probably wondering where the rest of the story is? Well I'm keeping it for myself right now. I think this might be one where I could eventually turn it into a full blown novel obviously with a twist! Tell me how you think it ends in the comments below. And sorry to leave you hanging!

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