Treasure

94 3 0
                                    

Nick wandered around the top floor, trying to find some alternate way down than the now nearly non-existent staircase and its monstrous guard dog.

It was quite difficult to manoeuvre as apparently it was some time in the morning and a lot, not all, but a lot of the curtains were open, letting sunlight spear across the rooms.

Eventually, he crept up one staircase higher, into the attic, which had practically no windows at all, much to his relief.

Shame it didn't have like some random, sunlight-less chute directly to the ground floor. That would be brilliant just about now.

He stumbled, falling over a box and landing on the floor hard.
The contents of the box spilled out onto the floor loudly. Pieces​ flew everywhere, rolling into the most awkward of places.

Nick cursed, and attempted to scoop everything up, not really paying attention to what was there, and attempting to cram it messily into the cardboard box.

So, of course, suddenly everything didn't fit.

Dragging it all out again, he began to attempt to work out how it all packed together again.

"Damn it, Evelyn must have some super-human packing skills. This takes up half the box by itself! How'd she do it?"

Then he looked at what was in his hands.

It was a doll. A child's doll, with little brown curls, blue glass eyes and a little white muslin dress.

But there was something sad about this doll. Just the way it was packed away, up here, in perfect condition, shoved out of sight.

He picked up something else.

A small music box, painted elegantly, lightly faded with age but otherwise, reverently conserved.

In fact, everything in that box was a little girls possessions, packed away oh so nicely.

Or had been until he'd spilled them everywhere.

Point was, someone cared enough to put them here.

Point is, who? Not Evelyn, obviously... Right?

Reflections of MistWhere stories live. Discover now