The Lady in the Attic (standard:drama, 1286 words)
Author: GothicGirl	Added: Sep 18 2000	Views/Reads: 5022/2472	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story about a girl and her family secret, hidden in the attic in the grandmothers house.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

it. They also added many more candle holders, to light the room more. 
The flames of these candles created a demonic dance against the wall. 
As aunt Anne’s conditioned worsened,the attic became worse. 

Two days before my sixteenth birthday aunt Anne died. I was so elated
when I heard the news, yet it made me feel ashamed. I was happy because 
now I could be with my friends after school and I was no longer 
embarrassed to have people over. I was ashamed because my wish came 
true, I wanted her dead and she died. I was also ashamed that I was 
happy while everyone else was in the attic mourning her death. At the 
time I never realized the hardship and burden her life was. 

Everyone soon stopped mentioning Anne, as if they had forgotten her.
Nobody visited her grave or said a prayer for her. On the one year 
anniversary of her death not one person in the family lit a candle for 
her. It almost seemed like the attic forgot her too. It seemed to 
brighten up. The smell went away and the nails did not look so rusty. 
The echoes of moaning seemed to stop. The shadows no longer danced in a 
demonic ritual, but in a waltz. 

My last year living with my grandmother I moved into the attic. I moved
up to the attic because I needed my own space and I did not want to 
share a room with my cousin Mary. After a few nights, the attic began 
to remember. Its memory began to recall its past. When I sat up late at 
night doing homework the shadows of the flames would dance their 
demonic dance. On windy nights the echoes moved through the attic. On 
cloudy days the nails looked rustier. Every night when I went to bed 
the yellow smell of vomit and jelly filled capsules drifted from the 
walls like it had from under the door from when I was a child. The 
attic, like an old man, could store memories of a lifetime, and release 
them when any one or any thing triggered them.


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