It was quiet in the house. Now was my chance. In through the bedroom and to the stairs I went. The bedroom had wallpaper on the walls with heavy white drapes over the two windows. The stairs were painted yellow. There was a bed, dresser, and chest of drawers in the room. The chest of drawers was at the end of the stairs with barely enough room to step off the bottom step. Up the stairs and through the big door. I pushed the door up with my head and made sure it went back far enough so it didn’t fall onto on my head. Then when I closed it, I had to let it back slowly and hold it so it didn’t slam.
It was so much fun to play here. There was one main room with a floor in it. The other rooms – three of them – only had boards here and there. The rafters were covered with boards to hold old stuff that was being stored there. I’d been forewarned that I’d fall through the floor if I stepped into one of the other rooms. Also, seeing the electrical wires running between the rafters to all the lights scared me. So, I did heed at least one warning from my mother, unlike so many others that I didn’t.
The middle of the floor was open, but all around the room, there was furniture. There was a chest of drawers full of clothes and a treadle sewing machine with long drawers on the sides. The long drawers were full of spools of thread, bobbins, and dusty scraps of material. One day, when I tried to sew, I got my thumb caught under the needle on the sewing machine. I still have the scar from it.
There was a big ceramic crock where my parents stored dried beans. They bought the beans in 50-pound feed sacks. My mom made my dresses from the feed sacks. She made kraut and pickled corn in the crock through the summer.
There was an old rocking horse that I had belonged to a child. There was a window on one side so I could look out and see the barn. I was always afraid of falling out of it, so I didn’t get too close to it. I would play in the attic for hours, dressing up in old clothes and playing house. I found old books and played school using the chairs and an old table.
I could smell the dust, but for some reason, I didn’t sneeze from breathing the dust. I was sitting there, looking out the window, thinking about the dust and not sneezing. It was then that I caught a glimpse of something moving toward the barn. I sat, unable to move or breathe, as I watched him sneak up the ladder and into the loft. He was back. Would my dad believe me this time? I’d have to hurry.
General
Comments are closed.
This feels like the introduction to a larger story and it really hooked me! I love how present your writing is and how the details you included made the world seem more real.
Thank you! I’m trying to decide how to go with it from here.
It was so on top! All the words stood out,and u gave more definition of the house
Thank you!