The Attic Read online

  A wave of nausea hit her with the terror, but Sammy’s mind wouldn’t let her be scared. Her thoughts raced as her brain tried to find a way to rationalize what she was seeing.

  “I must have put my hand on it without thinking about it.” She said aloud to no one but herself and maybe the cat.

  That thought was sufficient enough to stem the panic attack. Despite having a logical explanation for the handprint, Sammy couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was behind her, watching her every move, for the entirety of her shower.

  When John came home from work that day, Sammy could smell the take-out from upstairs as soon as she heard the front door close. John had stopped at her favorite restaurant. The scent of homemade chicken noodle soup reached her nose as her fiancé walked toward the kitchen where she was finishing up with washing the dishes.

  "Did you get a large soup? Please tell me you got the big soup." She said as she placed the last fork in the drying rack.

  "I did even better than that," John said, and Sammy could hear the smile in his voice. "Not only did I get you a large soup, but I also got you a turkey and bacon club."

  "Anything else?" Sammy asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "One oatmeal raisin cookie and, I also got you an extra soup so you can heat it up tomorrow. Well, that's assuming you don't eat them both right now." John teased.

  "You better watch yourself, mister." Sammy crossed the kitchen and pulled John into her embrace. "Thank you. Oh, and it's good that you got my favorites because we do have something to celebrate."

  "Oh yeah. What's that?" John said as he set the soup containers and sandwiches up on the kitchen table.

  "I got promoted at work." She said with a huge, beaming smile plastered across her face.

  Sammy had been apprehensive about the promotion up until that moment. When she told John about it, though, she realized how excited and proud she really was.

  "Really?" John said excitedly. "That's so awesome. So, you got the RN position?"

  "It's even better than that. John, they're making me the charge nurse for the second shift on the new wing."

  "Oh, wow. That's amazing." He said and pulled her in for a long kiss.

  "It's even better than I was hoping for." She said when they parted.

  "I'm so proud of you."

  "We should celebrate with a trip to Home Depot," Sammy said.

  "Can we? That would be totally awesome." John's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

  The parking lot was practically empty when they arrived. John pulled into a space far away from the building even though most of the spots close to the doors were still open. Sammy liked to make sure she got plenty of walking in, so she prided herself on sneaking it in whenever she could. If he even tried to park close, John knew she'd protest. And, he knew she was right, so he'd stopped arguing about it long ago.

  They walked up to the doors hand in hand with the future possibilities buzzing between them. After the pair had decided to buy the house on Overwatch, they'd both had their doubts about the decision. After everything that had happened there, Sammy and John had to wonder if they were trauma-bonded with the house.

  Now, the realization that they had made the right decisions all along was sinking into their hearts and minds. Every step had led them to that moment, and it felt good.

  The automatic doors opened, and cool air rushed out. "Let's do this," John said with unwavering excitement.

  Sammy grabbed a cart, and they headed to the bathroom fixtures. John wanted to redo the upstairs bathroom, and once they’d knocked down the wall dividing the house, he’d also remodel the bathroom on the other side.

  John had spent a lot of time in this store because of his work. Usually, the company he worked for sourced their materials from a wholesaler, but sometimes they needed an item fast. Or there was a particular fixture a client had found while shopping that was only available at Home Depot. In those instances, he or one of the other guys would come in here and make a purchase.

  He’d been in the bathroom section numerous times and had most of the sinks and faucets memorized. Above the sink and faucet display was a giant wall of mirrors that extended from the top of the highest sink to the ceiling. Each mirror had a number next to it so that you could tell the sales clerk which one you wanted and they’d retrieve it from the back of the store.

  It had never bothered him before, but for some reason, as he stood there staring up at the ocean of reflections, he could swear he saw someone other than Sammy standing just behind him. Normally, in a large store like Home Depot that wouldn’t be strange, but this woman was right behind him.

  He whirled around, and there was no one there. John sucked in a deep breath, and then looked back up at the mirrors. He was able to convince himself in moments that it had just been a trick of the light caused by the mirrors and the boxes of plumbing fixtures on the other side of the aisle.

  About the time he was going to begin laughing at himself, Sammy came around the corner pushing a cart. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Sammy chuckled when she saw John’s stricken face.

  He didn’t know what to say. Sammy had taken the whole haunted house thing in much better stride than he had. When John had first agreed to buy the duplex and renovate it, he’d convinced himself that it would be okay. But just then, he realized that his anxiety increased every day.

  Why was he so jumpy in a Home Depot? It didn’t matter. The house was what Sammy wanted, so John pushed those feelings down and told himself that it was stress from work getting to him.

  Chapter Three

  The renovations got underway as John and Sammy spent their free time tearing down the wall that split the Overwatch house into two parts. While the couple was hopeful that the final results would be amazing, they had to admit that their home had turned into a disaster zone.

  John had done his best to clean up after the demolition work, but Sammy could see, and feel, that dust had worked its way into every crevice of the house. In between helping him haul chunks of plaster and wood out to the dumpster they'd rented, she scurried around the house in a vain attempt to keep the ever-present layer of dust from growing a life of its own.

  There was one small section of the wall that still needed to be knocked down, and Sammy begged John to let her have a go at it. She'd been watching him swing the sledgehammer and do all of what she perceived as the fun parts of the demolition on his own.

  Confident that she'd be able to knock down the plaster and desperately craving the satisfying crunch of the sledgehammer, Sammy put her hands on her hips and gave John her best death glare.

  “You’re going to make my life miserable if I don’t let you do this, aren’t you?” John asked.

  “You betcha. Also, I feel like we need to have a discussion. Like, I’m not sure that I should have to ask for your permission to do this.” Sammy responded.

  “I’m just trying to protect you.” He said sheepishly. “Besides, you can’t deny that you can be a bit clumsy.”

  “You’re going to wish I was just clumsy when I’m through with you,” Sammy said playfully.

  “Fine. In the interest of living to finish this project, I’ll give you the sledgehammer.” John said and handed it over.

  Sammy took a few swings at the plaster, impressing John with her strength. She loved the feeling of demolishing the wall and briefly wondered if she’d gone into the wrong line of work.

  “I like this.” She said before she took another swing. “Maybe I’ll come work with you.”

  “You’re stronger than I thought,” John said with a chuckle.

  “Nursing is hard work.”

  The wall needed one last whack to come down completely, but this time when Sammy hit it, something crashed above their heads in the attic.

  “What was that?” Sammy asked and quickly handed the sledgehammer back to John.

  "It sounds like you broke something in the attic. Maybe I shouldn't have given you the sledgehammer. I didn't realize
you were going to hulk smash the house." John teased her.

  "Should we go up and check it out?" Sammy asked with loud swallow.

  "Yeah, we should probably make sure you didn't do any permanent damage. I'm sure something just fell over. I've meant to go up there and sort through all of that stuff." John said. "You don't have to come with me."

  "I'll go," Sammy said with a smile. "I've wanted to do a little exploring up there, but I was too big of a scaredy-cat to go without you."

  "I don't blame you for that," John said.

  "Let's not talk about it. We'll just freak ourselves out."

  The attic stairs creaked loudly with every step. It gave the impression that someone was following John and Sammy up the stairs. She kept casting glances over her shoulder, but there was never anything there.

  Sammy breathed a sigh of relief when the lights came on after John hit the switch. The attic was a large open space, but in some places, it felt cramped because there were large stacks of items in random places.

  "You okay if we split up and look around?" John asked.

  "Yeah, as long as you stay up here," Sammy replied. "Why, are you scared?"

  "I'm going that way," John said and pointed to Sammy's left. "You go the other way and just call out if you need me. Or, if you happen to find the source of the crash.”

  "You got it, dude," Sammy responded and then wandered into the maze of boxes and furniture.

  She did note to herself that John had chosen the side of the attic with less stuff piled up, but perhaps he'd heard the crash better than her. Maybe he knew that the loud noise had come from that side of the space.

  Immediately after the demon was expelled from the house, Sammy had thought she'd be okay. The air felt clear, and nothing seemed amiss in the house. It wasn't until later that Sammy realized she'd been on an adrenaline high.

  Shortly after they'd purchased the house, Sammy's elevated mood crashed. Sometimes she felt sad, and she'd developed a distrust of people around her. It wasn't something Sammy admitted to anyone. John always talked about how strong she was and how in awe he was of how she'd handled things. Sam couldn't bring herself to confess that she'd been struggling.

  Something at the end of the attic near the single window caught her attention. Sitting on top of an old steamer trunk and propped up against the wall was a large mirror in an ornate wooden frame.

  Sammy got closer and ran her fingertips over the dark wood. Her heartbeat picked up a little, and she couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement. It was strange that something like a mirror, as beautiful as it was, would elicit such a reaction.

  "It's magnificent." She said to herself.

  "What's that?" John called from the other side of the attic. "I couldn't hear you."

  "Come here and look at this," Sammy called back loud enough for him to hear.

  "Did you find what you broke?"

  "No, it's something else. Something I think we can use in the house." Sammy said cheerfully.

  John made his way over to where Sammy stood. He noted that just beyond the object that had transfixed her was a pile of boxes that had fallen over. It was most likely what had caused the ruckus, but Sam had been derailed in her mission by the ornate mirror.

  He let his eyes linger over the overwrought frame, not exactly sure why Sammy liked it so much, or why she thought it would be a great addition to their home. They didn't have a particular theme per se in their house, but it certainly didn't mesh well with a huge antique mirror that looked like it belonged in a long-abandoned castle.

  It wasn't just the look of the object that bothered him so much. There was also that same creepy feeling he'd gotten at the Home Depot. The completely irrational feeling that the mirror was mocking him made his blood boil a little.

  "I think we should get rid of it," John said brusquely.

  Chapter Four

  “Why on earth would we get rid of it, John?” Sammy asked. “It’s beautiful, and I’m sure it’s worth a ton of money. Look at it.”

  “I am looking at it, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to sell it either. Let’s just put it out on the curb. Someone will take it.” John said.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing. It just weirds me out. Okay?” John said with a shrug. “Please? I promise I’ll buy you any other mirror you want, but can we get rid of this one?”

  Sammy thought about it. She didn’t want to get rid of the mirror, but there was also no reason for her to fight to keep it. Still, for a moment as she gazed into the glass, Sammy could swear that it looked like a metallic liquid pool.

  Without thinking, her hand reached out of its own accord, and her fingers met the reflective surface. It was cool to the touch, and suddenly the attic around her felt stiflingly hot. If she could just walk into the mirror, everything would be better.

  "Sammy." John's voice cut through her commune with the mirror, and Sammy found herself disproportionately annoyed with him for the intrusion.

  "What?" She snapped, but then quickly apologized. "Sorry, it's so hot up here."

  Sammy considered the mirror for another moment and then decided that it would be best to listen to John. Something wasn't quite right about the mirror, and the last thing she needed was to get herself into another situation.

  "I'll help you carry it out to the curb." She said contritely. "I'm sure someone will snatch it up in no time."

  It was a good thing that it didn't rain overnight, because the next day when Sammy got up, the mirror was still on the curb. She had the day off, and much to her later embarrassment, she spent the better part of the morning sitting at the front window watching people come and go. Several had stopped by to look at the mirror, but for some reason, no one ever took it.

  Around lunchtime, Sammy sat at the window in a kitchen chair she'd dragged in and placed just right so that she'd had the perfect view of the mirror. A plate with a bologna sandwich sat balanced on her lap, and a tall glass of diet pop was at her feet.

  When the latest looky-loo came and went, Sammy started to feel sadness for the mirror. How could something so beautiful be so unwanted? The last guy had rolled up in a beat-up red pickup. The bed of the truck was full of other stuff he'd most likely scavenged from other people's curbs.

  Her heart hurt as the man picked up the large mirror and gave it a close inspection. He looked like the kind of guy that knew exactly how much a piece like it was worth. Much to her surprise and utter relief, he'd put the mirror down quickly. With a curse under his breath, he'd hurried back to his truck and sped off.

  That was the last straw. There was no way Sammy was going to let her mirror sit outside on the street and be treated that way. John was at work, but she was sure she could get it back into the house without damaging it. Whether he liked it or not, John would just have to understand. Sammy loved that mirror, and it belonged in her house.

  Sammy slipped on her shoes and shuffled quickly out to the curb. She felt a rush of relief once she found herself standing in front of the mirror again. Why anyone would have stored such a magnificent piece in the attic was beyond her. While some people might have thought that it was just a reflective pane of glass, Sammy saw a work of art.

  When Sammy lifted the mirror, she was amazed to find that it felt lighter than expected. She easily picked it up and carried it back into the house. Once inside, Sammy pulled John's toolbox out of the corner he'd had it stashed in.

  She went from room to room in an attempt to find the perfect place to hang the mirror. It had to be somewhere she could see it most of the time. The idea to put it at the base of the stairs just inside the front door came to her.

  "Yes." She said aloud. "That's a very good idea. Then, I'll be able to see it when I come home from work. Oh, and when I get up in the morning and come downstairs for breakfast."

  Sammy found some nails that she hoped were the right size and knocked on the wall in a few places. She'd heard that you needed to attach large objects to the studs, so that's wha
t she intended to find. After a few minutes of knocking around, Sammy was confident that she'd found both hollow places in the wall to avoid and the studs.

  Her next step was to measure the height she needed to ensure the mirror hung at the perfect height, and use a ruler to draw a line so that it was straight. It needed to look absolutely perfect. Anything less wasn't good enough for her mirror.

  She bent three nails in the process of hanging the mirror. Twice she'd come close to whacking her fingers, but somehow, Sammy managed to avoid significant injury.

  An hour later, Sammy was covered in sweat and panting from exertion. The lightness she'd experienced when carrying the mirror into the house seemed to have left the object. That was okay with her, though. If she had to work to have it in her home, it was no bother.

  "The only things worth having in life take hard work," Sammy said to herself like a mantra. "I needed some exercise anyway."

  Once the mirror was on the wall, Sammy needed to clean it. She went to the kitchen to retrieve the furniture polish and glass cleaner from under the kitchen sink. There were rags stashed in a box on the floor of the pantry, so Sammy grabbed two.

  She took her time polishing the wood. Every once in a while, Sammy stole a look at herself in the glass while she cleaned. The mirror made her look different. She liked the effect. It changed her hair to a rich shade of chocolate brown and made the color of her eyes deeper as well. For a moment, she could have sworn that it was actually someone else staring back at her. But, when she blinked, it was her own visage looking back.

  When Sammy had the wood shining like new, she grabbed the bottle of blue glass cleaner and sprayed a few times toward the center. She was careful not to get the cerulean liquid on the wood. One swipe with the rag and it was evident that a cloth wasn't the right tool for the job.

  "I'm sorry," Sammy said to the mirror when she saw the fabric pills streaked across the glass.

  She quickly retreated into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of paper towels. "These should work," Samantha noted to herself. One thing she insisted on was buying the right brand of paper towels, so Sammy was confident that there wouldn't be any bits of paper left behind.