by L. A. Hardt

Created on: November 10, 2008

The attic was dusty with boxes, and discarded furniture that someone didn't have the heart to part with so it was placed up here out of the way. The lace curtain that covered the window at the far end was off white with brown tinged edges. It was probably hanging there for years just letting the light of day filter through its lacy floral pattern.

It has been years since I was in this house, I can recall being a young girl just after my eighth birthday. My mother and grandmother sat me down to tell me that I was going to live with a new family. That this was going to be better for all of us my mother told me as grandma stood behind her dabbing at her own eyes. I didn't want go, I cried so hard I didn't understand why they didn't want me, I loved them both, what had I done that was so bad?

It was two days after they told me, the time had come for me to go. I was sent on my way, packed up with a few belongings and a favorite doll I didn't want anything else. I had not been in this house since that day, and the doll sits on a bedroom chair in my home it's all I have left of my past. Until three weeks ago a registered letter came from an attorney telling me that my mother left this house to me.

I lived closer to the city now, so I took some time off from work and drove the four hours that it took to get upstate. It was mid September but the leaves were already bursting with fall colors, the air was clean and crisp. It brought back memories of when my mother and grandmother would rake leaves in the morning while I played in them, lifting handfuls over my head and letting them rain down on me.

Standing in the attic, I thought to myself where do I start? Do I just call someone in and let them clean out the place? I looked around there was nothing I wanted from my mother, not even the house. I came up because I was curious to see the house one last time, but I would put it on the market as soon as possible, not sure what I would do with the money when it did sell.

I turned to go back down the attic stairs when I noticed a box that had my name carefully printed on the side. I pulled it out from the others and sat on the stairs as I removed the tape that held it closed. I opened the flaps to see, tissue paper carefully folded over some of the contents, there was a baby's outfits, and other items that went from infant till I am sure that I wore when I was eight. Everything was carefully packed away, and there was an envelope that when I picked it up and peered into it I saw

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>