Dance With The Devil

CHAPTER FIVE - NOT ALONE

CHAPTER FIVE

NOT ALONE

Grace had come to a decision that she would clean the manor doing one part at a time so it would be clean and ready for the winter by the time the Heelshires would be back. She started from the rooms on the second floor. The manor was even bigger than she had originally thought, with six guest rooms and three master bedrooms. Grace was given one of the master bedrooms, the other bedroom was that of Mr. & Mrs. Heelshire and the third master bedroom was unoccupied.

And then there was Brahms room. Slightly smaller than the master bedroom but still big enough. She walked into the room and looked around the toys and the drawings. It felt different being in there now that she knew his story. She turned towards the bed where she had left the doll and she stopped right there.

She instantly knew something was off, the clothes it had on were not the clothes Mrs. Heelshire had put on the doll the day she left. She had not touched the doll since the day they left and she was sure that no one had entered the room. She walked closer to inspect the doll, it looked just like the day she had put it in the bed but in different clothes. It had on a grey sweater and black pants, a pair of tiny shoes resting on his nightstand.

She was sure that Mrs. Heelshire had dressed the doll in a blue shirt and dark blue pants. Could someone have entered the house? Alex was the only one who had access in the house, was he messing with her maybe? It was unlikely but there was no other explanation. It was only then that she noticed the clothes neatly folded on the dresser. She picked them and she saw that it was the blue shirt and pants the doll was wearing the day the Heelshires left.

She suddenly felt unsafe, she checked the window to make sure it was locked. She left the room and checked every window and door in the house to make sure it was locked. She returned to her room and thought about calling Alex but what exactly she would tell him? That someone had broke in to change the doll's clothes? It sounded so silly as she thought about it. Could she have changed the clothes and not remember it? She knew she was sleepwalking when she was younger but she she had stopped doing that many years ago.

She rubbed her temples feeling the headache coming, she was over thinking again making a big deal out a silly thing. She wasn't used to live alone, that was all. Or that's what she told herself. She decided to start the tasks she had given to herself.

It was evening by the time she finished, she was at the head of the staircase ready to walk down the stairs when a loud bang made her jump. She slowly turned around and looked the empty hallway, she gasped as she saw a ladder hanging from the ceiling. She walked closer and looked up in the opening and realized that it was the attic. She remembered what Alex told her, Brahms was trapped in the attic when the girl's father set the house on fire.

This was most likely the place he died, she wasn't sure that she wanted to enter that place. She felt like she was intruding something that she was not supposed to, yet the open ladder looked like an invitation. Alex had revealed a part of the family's past but that only sparked more questions in her mind. Perhaps she could find something helpful up there, she thought.

She hesitantly climbed up into the dark room, she cursed herself for not bringing a flashing with her or even her phone. She reached the top of the ladder and took a few steps slowly and carefully, she didn't want to trip and fall into the opening, it was a long way down. She reached for the wall and looked for a light switch but she found something else, a window. She opened the blinds and the room was bathed in soft light.

The first thing she noticed was there were a lot of books. She picked one that caught her attention, it was a book about healing burns naturally. She felt uncomfortable thinking about it, she remembered her own burns but she quickly pushed the thought away. She thought of Mrs. Heelshire, perhaps she had suffered burns the day Brahms died. It was a terrible thing to think about.