What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of an attic? Maybe filled with wonders, has a nostalgic feel to it, and engulfed in memories.
That's usually what most people believe attics hold. I, on the other hand, would think crummy,old, dusty, crammed, creepy, and a great place to put a bedroom in.
So what's with attics?
Well, when I, Aurelia Young, went to my grandmother's for the first time at the age of fourteen, her attic changed the way I saw everything that came before me.
I felt a hand a hand gently shake me back and forth, at a slow pace but with a frantic feel to it. I opened up one of my eyes just a crack and noticed that light wasn't coming through my window; it was still dark out. While trying to get my brain adjusted to the dark, I could hear my mom's voice.
"Lia, wake up! You're gonna be late for the flight." I then opened both of my eyes with annoyance in them, and glared straight at her. I groaned post-sentence. I knew what was about to go down. "Vacation day, darling!" She yelped. Then only made me even more bothered. "Ughhh...why now? Why over there?" She laughed. "What do you mean over there?! Don't you like the U.K.? You always obsess over English boys. Maybe you'll get yourself a friend over there." She winked at me which I replied to by rolling my eyes.
"I do like it, but I'm staying with a lady I've never even met in my life!" She looked at me sternly, suddenly making the conversation oddly serious. "Aurelia Arizbeth Young! You have to give your grandma a chance." "That's right. And she also makes the best damn brownies in the world."
We both turned to see Dad standing in the doorframe, only the hallway light illuminating him. "I mean I should know, she is my mom." I started to pout. "But--"
Mom then dragged me out of bed and placed me in front of the wardrobe. "Come on, your suitcases are downstairs and so is breakfast. Now get dressed or you will never hear the end of it," she demanded.
I gave up trying to persuade her and opened my closet, while both of them went down chatting about how much fun they were going to have in Mexico without me. I groaned while putting on a My Chemical Romance shirt, a skirt, and some converse. All black of course.
I then grabbed a carry on backpack and put all my necessities. My headphones, a few comics, a blanket, a pillow, a phone charger, my laptop, and a stuffed bunny that my grandma supposedly gave to me when I was small. Just to show her that I did once have a small piece of her around.
I headed downstairs, backpack slung on shoulder, and began breakfast. It went by pretty fast, probably because I didn't eat that much. Just toast and milk.
While I was eating, Dad gave me a few facts about grandma. She had a massive record collection of all shapes and sizes. But she had a billion records made by the Beatles. He told me that whenever she saw something, anything for that matter that was or related to the Beatles, she bought it instantly. He kept emphasizing the fact that she was a Beatlemaniac. I've heard of the Beatles but never really looked into them, so at least there was gonna be something new that I was gonna learn while there.
Then it was time to go to the airport. I had a strange urge to stay in the house, like as if I stepped outside, I would be leaving everything behind. It was terrifying. I couldn't get myself to get my shit together and walk out. But eventually I had to.
I took a deep breath in, and stepped onto the welcome home mat just outside our door.
There was no going back now.
