My Memoirs [Short Narrative and Descriptive Stories]

Story 1: Locked In The Attic

Inspired by 'The Memory Keeper's Daughter' - Kim Edwards~

Locked In The Attic

Paul was restless. His hand swiped off aimlessly the webs that hung from the dank walls of the attic, his mind solely focused on finishing the ridiculous task. There wasn't much time left for his football practice to start, and he stood here, a cloth wrapped around his mouth, gloves covering his rough hands, unwillingly completing his mother's order.

To abolish the remains of the last home belonging to the tiny eight legged mates of his, his hands stretched out and his feet brought him forward. He stumbled. Catching himself, he glanced down at the cause, picking up the chest- coloured beige with a walnut lining.

His face turned in confusing as his mind drifted back to the day his little hands had held the same box, right here. "Can I open this, Papa?" he had questioned his father, who was quick at taking it away from him. Whilst his head shook no, David had guided young Paul out the attic, away from the mystery.

Only this time, the box was unlocked. Paul let his tools fall and proceeded to open the aged case. His fingers glided over the numerous papers, halting as something colourful caught his sight. A photograph. Recognizing his childish self, he strained to remember the old friend next to him, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, their hands intertwined together as toothless smiles covered their faces.

And before he knew, his feet carried him down the stairs. Photo in hand, his eyes searched his parents, who stood together laughing, his father wiping out dust from his mother's cheeks.

Paul then coughed, smiling as he took in the sweet scene. After receiving their attention, he moved forward to place the photograph in his mother's hands, then stepping back to let his father look.

"Who's she?" Paul asked, and regretted as the smiles on his parent's face vanished in seconds. A long pause followed, only the monotonous ticking of the clock resonating the tense air.

He noticed David's jaw tighten, not meeting his son's eyes. "Oh dear..." his mother began to sob, sorrow lacing her voice as tears stained her worn-out robe. Paul could only stand confused as David's hand wrapped around Norah,letting her cry out after all these years.

"Your sister." David said aloud, failing to sound firm. Norah looked up at him, who nodded, stating that the time had come. 16 year old Paul was taken aback, emotions flooding his muddled mind as he understood the sense of loss that had always lingered, the one he did not know the root of until now.

His eyes demanded an explanation, and then they sat that night together, letting the secrets of years unfold, somehow finding peace as the burdens and guilts drifted away.

***