The Eighth

The Beginning

The black SUV came to a halt as its passengers exited the vehicle. The driver waited at the curb and sighed as she peered at her clipboard. Her eyes traveled down the bridge of her nose and squinted through her spectacles as the girl hopped out of the car. The real-estate agent checked the spreadsheet with her black pen as she inspected the house's condition.

The two story building was probably a quaint little living space back in its day. With the entrance greeted warmly by a white picket fence and stepping stones, the house painted in lovely pastel colors and the summer sun bathing it in its glowing light. The only problem was that when a house hasn't been lived in for seventeen years, picket fences and stepping stones become overgrown. Inviting pastel paint chips and peels, and in the bright light of the sun, every deteriorating aspect becomes quite noticeable; but to the girl waiting by the SUV, it was just as lovely as it was seventeen years ago.

"Are you sure this is the right house?" I said, my voice becoming hoarse.

The real estate agent glanced at her forms. "It says property of the Charmeine's."

"Well, that is my last name..." I sighed.

"Come on Hazel, we have some work to do." The lady directed as she clicked along the mossy stepping stones towards the front door. She inserted the key and the door swung open. She stood aside to let the young girl through first.

I looked around, astonished. The outside may have been degrading but the inside was elaborately decorated and in top notch condition. I trailed my hand along the banister of the grand staircase and inspected my finger. No trace of dust.

"Mrs. Landers, this place is in impeccable condition compared to the outside." I stated, curiously.

Mrs. Landers winked, "Don't judge a book by its cover."

I smiled as I ran upstairs, Mrs. Landers close behind. I peeked in the rooms until I was brought to the opening in the ceiling with a pull down staircase. "May I?" I asked.

"Of course," The real estate agent answered. I entered the narrow space. It was loaded with packages and old boxes of family keepsakes.

"You'll have to go through them at some point. I'll call up a repair crew and moving truck this evening to start repainting and removing old stuff you don't want to keep." Mrs. Landers explained.

"Thanks... If you don't mind can I start going through these now?" I asked, my eyes tearing up from the old memories boxed up in the attic.

Mrs. Landers nodded and descended the steps.

I rushed into the pile of boxes and ripped the top one open. I pulled out several picture frames. It was my mom, glowing in her loveliness. My dad, in his all black attire, but still smiling, which was a rare sight. I wondered why her parents were even attracted to each other in the first place. Yes, they were both good-looking people, but they were polar opposites.

"I guess opposites really do attract..." I muttered under my breath. Sighing, I lowered myself down into a sitting position as I stared at the old photo. I laid it aside and rustled around a bit more. Pulling out clothes, knickknacks, and slightly used journals. I went through several more boxes until I heard a crash.

I crossed the room towards where a box had toppled off its perch. I carefully turned it over and found shards of glass scattered about the floor. A strange black substance had made a mess among the shards. One last sphere rolled off of the stack of boxes but I caught it carefully in my hands. I turned it over and examined the black lettering and strange smoke inside the glass. "What sort of weird kind of snow globe is this?" I muttered. The black substance gathered up on the floor slowly trudging their way to conjoin at a midpoint. The sludge and shadow morphed, growing taller and taller. I looked up and it lunged at her. I ducked and rolled to the side, dropping the sphere and breaking the last of the seven cages of the sins that had been trapped for the past seventeen years.