Knock Knock Part two, The Attic

The house was silent and dark. Dust particles could be seen floating in the rays of sunlight that were coming in through the windows. Molly stepped inside the house and closed the door to the world outside. Suddenly, she felt very small. Her eyes had set on one corner of the house that was totally dark. She starred at the darkness as memories of the past filled the void, revealing to her images of things long forgotten. She saw a raggedy woman staring through her. It was her mother. Molly remembered how she used to look at her as if she were staring through her, like you would look at something as you were throwing it in the trash, totally useless and unneeded.

She reached over and flipped the light switch. In that previously dark corner there was a ladder leading up to the attic. The floors creaked louder than she ever remembered as she approached the ladder. They penetrated the silence like a shaft. She felt things crawling on her skin as she grew closer. Her eyes began playing tricks on her. She though she could see the shadow of her mother sitting at the top of the stairs as she yelled down to her.

“Mole, Come up to me!”

Molly froze. She closed her eyes and pleaded with herself to make her mother’s voice go away. It was clear and paralyzing, but when she opened her eyes the shadow was gone. She gazed up the stairs. Her heart began to race. It was a door. The door was brown in color, just the color of wood, never painted. It was smaller than most doors. The sides had been nailed shut and there was furniture sitting in front of it. There had been so many nails pounded in over other nails that some were bulging out. Laying beside the door was the hammer and a large mountain of nails that her mother must have planned on using.

Molly was hoping that the shadow she saw was only in her mind and wasn’t some manifestation of her dead mother leading her up to the room in the attic. She knew if her mother was ever able to come back to this earth, she would probably be trapped in the attic. She worried that her mother would lead her into the room and drag her to the pits of Hell so she would suffer with her. But she had to know what was behind that door.

What had happened there had been suppressed so far back in her mind that she had no real memory of what actually took place there. That’s why she had to open the door. There had always been something deep inside of her, some darkness, and she had to know what it was and where it was coming from. After all, her mother was finally gone. She was the force standing between her and all those forgotten memories. Why she had locked them away, there was only one way to find out.


Part three will be posted next


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