Ever since grandma passed away the family wasn't the same. She was always the light, she was never sad. Nonetheless, we had to clear out her clean but still crowded house. I ran to the attic. I wanted to be alone. The attic was always my favorite place, full of a kind of history, a real history. It was impossible not to like the attic. She always kept it cozy with cushions and couches in some places. I started taking down boxes. One by one, the space seemed stranger and emptier. These boxes were once used as walls for forts, backs for fake chairs and barriers to all of the things grandma kept. The attic got emptier and sadder. I noticed another box, this one I've ever seen before. It was different. It seemed fancy, like it should be polished and put down on display. I walked over to it. Mom called lunch but I was too curious to eat. I kneeled down and tried the lock. Locked but I was able to pull off the bindings. Inside was a book. I couldn't make out the title for it was very old and dusty. The thing that got me though was the smell. It didn't smell like the mold and gross stuff that you do usually find in an old box, instead there was a kind of aroma. it was like an old comforting feeling and something different, something out of the ordinary, like it came from another world, another time, another dimension. I opened the book and began to read. And inside was first a peculiar map labeled Edame. Then an encyclopedia of different animals, most of which I've never heard of. And finally, a story that you will have never heard before.
