And They All Fall Down

#2 hidden in the attic

John pulled up in front of the old worn down house. Slowly, he slipped his keys out of the ignition. The house looked much different from what he had seen in the pictures emailed to him. Panels of wood were falling off of the house and what wasn't falling was cracked and bent from years of weathering.
As he began up the steps to the front door, he could hear the snaps and pops of the wood giving way underneath him. The door still held the beauty of the time it was built. Beautiful hand carvings traced down the sides. John pushed the key into the lock, forcing it to turn. The hinges let out a loud squeal as the door was pushed open. John found himself standing in the wide corridor. He could already tell that the condition of the house was much worse than he believed but looking around he still saw hope and opportunity. After checking out the ground floor, he began to make his way up the grand staircase. It creaked just like the porch outside, but felt slightly more stable. John rubbed a hand smoothly against the top of the wooden handrail. The wood then gave way, falling to the floor almost taking John with it. He took in a breath, leaning into the wall.
Upstairs was definitely more clustered with junk from the past owners. Boxes filled the hall and were stacked up to the ceiling. Paintings leaned against the walls. Carefully John slipped through the cracks between the boxes blocking the long hallway. From behind him he heard a loud bang, causing him to jerk back into a stack of boxes. They toppled over, nearly crushing him. John sucked in a shaky breath, turning around quickly.
The attic ladder had fallen, hitting the floor. He shook his head, carefully stepping back over the boxes. Something glistened on the old wooden floor. John bent down and picked it up, turning it in his fingers. It was the metal latch that was supposed to be holding the attic door.
Looking up all he could see was darkness. Slowly he began to make his way up the unstable ladder. John grabbed a hold of the top landing, pulling himself onto the attic floor. Dust covered his hands and pants. Blindly he searched for a light. As he walked, he waved his hands gently until finding a metal string. As soon as he pulled it, the room flooded with a pool of light. The air was so thick that John could barely pull in a breath.
He looked around confused. It wasn't too crowded. A few boxes here and there along with random things thrown around. Against one corner was a medium sized, round mirror. John picked it up, using a piece of his shirt to wipe off some of the dust. His grey eyes met with those in the mirror. In the corner of the mirror he spotted something behind him. It was covered in a sheet leaning up against a small dresser. He tucked the mirror firmly under his arm and made his was to the wall behind him.
Bending down, he grabbed a hold of the sheet and pulled it off of the object. It was a beautiful old styled chalk board. It had a wooden boarder around the rough edges. Looking around he had found a few pieces of chalk lying around.

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Holding onto the mirror and chalkboard, John made his way carefully out of the house. Double checking that the door was locked behind him, he got into his car and slipped what filled his hands into the passenger seat beside him. With one last glance at the house, he headed down the road.