At least she got my letter. Of course he's been very upset lately but there's no way he can hide this secret forever. Everything can only stay buried for so long.
Secrets only stay buried for so long. I know he's lashing out because I found the key. Don't ask me how I know this because I couldn't tell you even if I tried.
Quickly and without hesitation I make my way to the attic door. There's no use in waiting for everyone to go to sleep. There's no point now in waiting for any form of privacy.
The key feels ice cold in my palm but as soon as I slide it into the lock on the door it heats up to a temperature that's almost unbearable. I almost can't keep it steady enough to open the lock. As soon as I do I toss the key to the floor. It makes a hissing sound but then almost as quickly goes quiet. Odd.
The attic door is finally open and the stench of death has taken on a whole new level suffocating. It lingers in the air all around me as I climb the worn steps to the main floor. I can barely breathe. Did I remember to close the door? Quickly I glance behind me. Shoot, it's standing wide open. If that thing or whatever he is wanted, he could've been behind me by now.
I close the door seamlessly from the inside. Then I hear footsteps from the hallway. That was almost to close. It doesn't matter who that was. That was just way to close for comfort. I hear the footsteps retreating into another room and sigh silently. It was only my brother.
Then I turn my attention back to what was left in the attic. I see a lot of old furniture and some dresses. Everything looks like it's from another era. There's a trunk sitting near an old fashioned vanity and for some reason I'm drawn to it.
There's a lock. Obviously, there's a freaking lock. Where's the key then? I hear feet fast approaching and quickly hide behind one of the old fashioned things that I can find. That's when I see it, a girl who looks around my age, only thing is she's different. She looks like she's from the same era as that one guy. Is she just like him too?
I watch her and notice that she kneels down by the locked trunk. I see her reach down beneath the fold of her dress and pull out the key around her neck. It's the same key I threw across the floor a minute ago. She uses it to open the lock on the trunk and I watch as she lifts up piles after piles of folded dresses, skirts, tops, and even a couple old fashioned bras. What were they called again? I don't even know right now.
I watch her carefully and quietly lift out what was left underneath. It's a freaking witch board. An actual witch board. I watch her place everything she just took out back into the trunk. Then she lays the board on top and locks everything else back inside.
I watch her walk away. I think I saw her faintly smile.
