Buried Secrets
by Brandi Salazar
Coming to a stop below the attic door, James reached up and tugged on the long cord that released the stairs, and pulled them down. On shaky legs, his breaths coming in short, labored bursts, he scaled the stairs slowly until he could just peak his head over the floorboards. From this vantage point, James had a direct line of sight between the many boxes leading a straight path to the dormer window where silver moonlight poured in washing the room in its unearthly glow. And there, sitting in front of the window, sat the filmy apparition of a young girl. She had her back turned toward him, but when James gasped his shock, she slowly turned her head, and when her eyes fell on him, she grinned.
Fear crippled him and James lost his footing. He grabbed for the floorboards, but it was too late. He fell, tumbling backward down the staircase and landing with a thud on the floor below. Panicking, James didn’t need time to recover. He leapt to his feet, and with desperation born of fear, he hauled the steps up, tucking them back into the ceiling and locking them in place. Then he turned and raced back to his room, slamming the door and locking himself inside until morning.
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