Thread 41350786

When I was kid my family fell on hard times: Dad died, we cried, & moved back to Grandma's house. Aside from the crushing loss, her ancient home & self brought much comfort. The summer had just begun & was spent following her around, doing the chores she'd always been saddled with, learning the tools of her trade. Mom was inconsolable & my siblings too old to help with care & attention; so I was her tiny maid.
Nan's home was more than 100 years old! It had a dozen bedrooms, an attic, basement, & lil' nooks & crannies out the ass. Keeping the place spotless was a herculean effort for the old bird & me; and I couldn't help but wonder what the point was, considering we only used a third of the rooms anyways? But assiduously assist I did, as the presence of Nan filled the gaping hole Dad had left.
As Autumn rolled in & mastery of my new artform solidified I began to know the place like the back of my hand. Which floorboards were loose, what hid at the back of certain closets; all of the secrets of the manor were becoming my own. But as the light of understanding enveloped the property one glaring mystery remained: why did we never touch the attic?

It was obviously there! Every Sunday upon returning from church I'd glance up at the dust-caked window in the center of the eaves, a sense of unmatched curiosity consuming me. We cleaned every square inch of the rest of the house; every window twinkled in the Sun's light; yet those whickered panes remained so dirty not a shred of warmth penetrated.
Halloween was approaching rapidly & my siblings & I were getting in the swing of the season: they would share stories of particular chills & frights they'd experienced since moving here while I'd internally smirk, having no such encounters in my much more thorough experience with the place. While in the living room swapping stories I interjected for what felt like the first time, enquiring about the lonely attic & if any of them had possibly ventured up there.
Nothing. It's as if they didn't hear me! They continued their conversation & I, dejected at being so completely obliviated, remained silent & listened to their rabble in a confused stupor. I soon forgot about it entirely, went about the basic course of the day, & retired to bed dutifully. Not an ounce of sleep met me there. I couldn't help but wonder... why not go into the attic myself?
It's entrance was just down the hall: a small ladder hidden away in a small closet snuck between a bath & bedroom. I was tall enough to reach it; and I didn't feel even slightly spooked at the idea of the home being haunted! I was just curious as curious could be. The middle of the night simply serving as the cover of darkness needed.

So, after a small bit of gall gathering, I crept across the aching floorboards to the concealed ladder. Pushing aside the clothes, shoes, & cleaning utensils the drawstring pulled easily; & the ladder descended from above surprisingly smoothly. Staring up into the dark space a sudden chill pervaded my body, like a whisper brushing the neck stretched out onto my whole form. A quick gulp & a reminder of my siblings' relative infancy steeled me into climbing right up.
Pitch dark was all I could perceive as I raised my head into the chilly, dusty air above. How was I to navigate? I'd forgotten to grab a candle or flashlight; and fuck me if there was any wiring installed or safe to use up there?
While I mused about my options, a faint glimmer caught my useless eyes. Turning to face it I realized it must be the moon just barely peeking through the grimy window that'd drawn me here in the first place! A big drawl of musty oxygen propelled me to pull myself up & onto the attic's floor so I could, at the very least, get the best view in the house. Slowly but steadily I used my hands to feel out the path in front of me, evidently strewn with boxes containing God knows what. The window was soon within my view, and I could see the stack of debris blocking the rest.

Awake. The morning light hit my startled corneas like a hot poker to an ass! Around the crates was... I know I saw something sitting in a chair? Was it a doll, crow black hair? No... It doesn't seem right... Doll's don't turn to look at you! &... & its face... No matter what I do I can't recall it?
The clinking-clang of morning breakfast being prepared jolted me back to my senses. I couldn't help but rush downstairs, hoping beyond hope Nan was the one cooking. Thankfully, it absolutely was; feverishly grabbing her apron I begged her to tell me about the doll in the attic!
'Doll? ATTIC!? Deary: what ARE you talking about? You must've had a nightmare, as this house has never HAD an attic! I used to have plenty of night terrors as a kid, too; once you get some food in you it'll be right gone from your pretty lil' noggin.'
As if I'd been shot dead, every last bit of warmth fled my head. Rushing to the front drive I shot my eyes up to the missing window.

>>41350786 (OP)
Beautiful story, please finish it.