The End of Forever, chapter five

I am dying of curiosity.

It’s been two days since I read the last entry of the diary, and I didn’t find the ending good enough. I have to find out more.

I go through the options in my head. I could go to the beach and check it out. Unlikely. I don’t know where Long Beach Island is, it’s one and a half hours away, and Mom and Dad aren’t keen to take me.

I could forget about it. Impossible. My memory’s bad, but it’s not that bad. I wouldn’t be able to forget.

I could ask someone. But who? Not Dad. I could ask Mom or Aunt Louise or Uncle Carl. Or I could ask Lissie or Emily. But what if they acted the same way as Dad? I didn’t want that. And, now that I think of it, they probably would. All the grownups in my family act almost the same way.

Or I could go back into the attic. It wouldn’t be a first. I could do it. I could check that same box, and see what else I found.

It is a wild guess, but I can’t come up with any other options.

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Home alone.

It’s a good feeling, and a scary one, at the same time. Good because of the freedom it provides, because you know that you can do anything you want. You are your own person.

Scary for the same reason.

The house is eerily silent. I’ve never noticed how scary the house can seem. I’m feeling fear I didn’t feel on my last expedition to the attic.

I raise my arm to pull on the chord. I realize that I’m shaking.

The ladder comes down. I never realized how loud it sounds when the bottom rung hits the floor. I almost jump.

The ladder is creaky and old. When I push my hand against it, it gives, and not a little. I can’t believe I’ve ever climbed it.

And I can’t believe I’m about to do it again. But I am. I grit my teeth and climb, not breathing until I reach the top. I turn on the light, putting the largest space possible between myself and the hole in the floor.

And I’m in the attic.