Sometimes what we see on the outside is harboring a secret on the inside.  A timelapse of indescribable terrors plays on repeat.  Only the ones that have truly experienced it can describe them.  What we learn is from the voices trapped inside the walls and the screams that are soaking through the wallpaper.  The eerie presences that linger in the hallways.  We can't see them but they are watching us and trying to tell their story.  Sometimes the truly lucky ones get to see what it's like for them.  Places are left untouched frozen in time almost.  Stumbling upon the scenes of where stories have been told about.  The stories that we only hear are being looped in the dark.  We walk among them as they relive a hell no one could imagine.  They reach out and try to grasp our hands for help.  We brush them off like dust that falls to the floor to be forgotten.  Forgotten like the name they once had but people didn't pay much attention to try to remember it.  They hold on to the stories they hear being told.  It gives them back some human quality.  It brings them a joy that they are still recognized through the stories even if they are not accurate.  What one must realize is that the stories we tell don't compare to the secrets trapped inside being relived.  Watch your step though if they get a chance they may hold onto you for dear life.  Leaving with you to hopefully escape their misery.