They balanced the boxes in their hand, climbing down the stairs and placing them at the front entrance.
"Is that all, Quinn?" Their mom asked. Quinn shook their head "No ma'am, there's still one more left." They walked up the stairs and into their room, looking at the last box.
Quinn looked around, they couldn't believe they were going to college. They opened the last box, taking out a bunch of drawings. Admiring their drawings, they looked at the paper. "I drew this at 11."
They looked at more drawings, they saw themselves in a forest surrounded by butterflies, seeing a turtle in a janky looking treehouse, dressed like a librarian, but with a pilot's hat.
"Freddy" Quinn read. Remembering all the good times with her imaginary friends.
"Quinn! The plane is leaving soon, you'll miss your flight!" Their mom yelled. They put the drawings back in the box and closed it, grabbing it and running down the stairs.
They rushed down the stairs, tripping and rolling down, the papers in the box flying everywhere. Quinn tumbled down the stairs, landing head-first on the tiled floor.
"Quinn!" Their mother yelled, running to them, "I'm o-" They began, vision blurring. They stood to their feet and tried to pick up the fallen papers, their vision getting worse and worse until it was all black.
YOU ARE READING
The Attic
FantasyOne small fall from the stairs brings them back to the good old days.