"Are your eyes still covered?"
I sigh and nod my head up and down repeatedly for about the sixth time my Mom has asked me on the way up to 'our floor'.
"Okay, okay!" She says excitedly, her voice raising an octave. I hear her bump into something and Dillon snort. "Dillon," she scolds, but tries not to make it sound too mean since we are all still being recorded by her camera.
"Alright, one second!" She says, and I listen as she swings the door open to her own bedroom. "Voila!" I open my eyes and blink to clear my vision.
"Why would you make us cover our eyes to see your bedroom?" Dillon inquires, turning his neck to look around.
"Could you just try to act a little excited for your mother?" She shakes the camera at him and he smiles slightly.
"What a lovely room you have, little girl," He jokes creepily, using a voice like the big bad wolf in little red riding hood. I giggle and Mom swats the back of his head.
"Ow."
I roll my eyes and study Mom's room. The place has cobwebs sticking to every corner and dust nearly completely obscuring the walls. I shrug. Whatever Mom wants, I guess.
I turn around and grab hold of the door handle. "Can we go look at our rooms now?" I ask.
"Not so fast, let me guide you," Mom tells me, rushing to my side and making me cover my eyes. Again.
"Mom," I state sullenly, "if there are multiple bedrooms on our floor, shouldn't I be able to choose? Thus, needing the use of my vision."
I hear Dillon's short laugh and feel my mouth form a small grin. Mom sighs in sudden defeat and I open up my eyes.
"Fine, but let me know once you've picked one so I can rerecord it like you've just seen it for the first time."
"You are so weird," I reply, leaving the room to explore the hallway lined with giant bedrooms. Dillon follows me out, the slapping of his worn sneakers loud against the rickety old floorboards. I walk past the opening of the staircase and poke my head into the first room.
There are two rectangular window on either side of the wall directly forward me. I automatically assume that is where the bed would be placed. I push the door open and step in, carefully studying each corner. I open up the closet. It's small, with a few shelves in the middle of the back wall.
I decide to keep looking so I can get the best room in the hall. So I gently close the door to the first room and examine each bedroom.
Most of them look extremely similar, and I'm starting to think it won't really matter which one I end up choosing. I suppose the one with the biggest closet.
I walk to the end of the hall and sigh. Nothing extraordinary here. I turn back and jump when something taps my cheek. I strain my neck and look up at what has hit me. It's a string attached to a panel in the ceiling.
Without thinking, I reach up and touch it with my fingertips. "Hm," I mumble quietly to myself. I tug lightly on it, and the ceiling panel swings open. I step back quickly, so it doesn't smack my head. Maybe the attic is cool.
I turn my head to look down the hall. No one is in sight. I reach up and grab hold of either side of the opening and pull myself up and through the hole.
"Ugh," I grunt softly, my utterly pathetic bicep muscles screaming at me as I pull my body weight up. "Oh my," I cringe quietly as I pull my elbow up and rest it on the edge, hoisting the rest of me up.
I can only imagine what this must look like from inside the hall. Yeah, I should really work out.
I get my knee up and over and I sigh as I let the little door close with a quiet thump. I rub the sore muscles in both my arms and frown when I think of how they'll feel tomorrow. The air in here is sort of tight and stuffy and I let out a short cough. Yay. Asbestos.
