The attic, the entire house, was off limits. \u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We weren\u2019t 12, hell we were 21 and 22 and we had had a little too much wine and the guys were boring. \u00a0All they wanted to do was wade into the river with no clothes on and wade back out, their bodies shivering, appearing more buff as their smooth chests tightened\u00a0in the cold.\u00a0 I started dreaming of older men with their lesser egos.\u00a0 Louise and I were down to our skivvies, but she grabbed her dress\u2013she always wore something that was \u201ceasy in and easy out,\u201d and called for me to follow. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I followed her through the dense wooded area that buffered the river to her aunt’s house. Louise\u2019s family had serious money, but she and her mother lived the bohemian lifestyle. I just lived. \u00a0She and I moved through the woods while the guys had their backs turned and we heard their cries of dismay discovering we had gone.\u00a0 Moving quickly, our clothes bundled beneath our arms, the cold heavy air of early October thick and clammy on the turning leaves of aged summer, we doubled our efforts. \u00a0Slipping on the wet incline, giggling although my feet smarted from the wild and prickly raspberry branches creeping along the ground and the smell of marijuana cling to my hair, I wondered for a moment why I was following Louise. \u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Taunt inside, my skin, my arms and breasts, tingled tightly from thoughts of touch I would not allow because they bore Louise with the game. \u00a0I knew she was right\u2013once things got started the fun left, and we were on the ground putting up with men, but the trek up the river bank was no fun either.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHurry,\u201d Louise hissed from just above me, the land sloped sharply up it was hard to see her, the foliage being thick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI am, but my feet hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cQuit whining, Auntie\u2019s house is just up ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI thought you weren\u2019t allowed in there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat depends on who is there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We plunged out of the woods and onto the green lawn. I had been there a few times with Louise.\u00a0 In May Justina, Louise\u2019s older\u00a0sister married Jonathan on the lawn. It was a last-minute ceremony and already the mosquitoes were drifting up from the river; I didn\u2019t stay long.\u00a0 Louise spends Christmas with her aunt every year so I understood Louise\u2019s banishment wasn\u2019t absolute.\u00a0 The aunt, she told me, had peculiar ideas about her and her behavior. I read between the lines; \u00a0Auntie didn’t trust Louise.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Louise backed up against the woods and pushed her long black hair out of her face and put on her dress. I followed suit and pulled on my cotton pants and an oversized shirt. Standing beside Louise with my bobbed off blonde hair and droopy clothes I looked the perfect sidekick. No matter what Louise did, she always looked like a movie star, who knew just how to move and just how much cleavage to show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLook, no one is there, let\u2019s go,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t want to go in, and I didn\u2019t step from the spot from where I had put on my clothes. \u00a0Louise just kept walking away from me. \u00a0She didn\u2019t even turn to see if I was there. \u00a0All I would have to do was\u00a0walk back into the woods and have my way with two oversexed guys at the river. \u00a0Even as I contemplated it, I knew I would follow, but I gave myself another second to feel that edge of rebellion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The house was immense, new, and not creepy at all..\u00a0 An understated orangish reddish brick, nondescript windows and a weird greenhouse looking wing that housed a small swimming pool.\u00a0 The shrubs were boring needing little maintenance \u2014 just right for an aging aunt who liked to entertain her other wealthy friends and who had to put up with the black-sheep side of the family.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The door being locked, Louise knocked in a loud insolent manner. Then she peered into what I could only guess was a living room, and then she threw pebbles at the windows that showed off the indoor pool. I stood there and watched dumb but not in wonder; Louise was odd. \u00a0She put a rock through one small pane of the back garage door, reached in, scraped her arm on the broken glass and unlocked the door. We both walked, stood there for a good three minutes and said nothing. \u00a0She turned and said, \u201cI want to show you something.\u201d We went nowhere in that house but to the attic. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought she would glance through the refrigerator or skinny dip in the pool and we would be out of there\u2013but no; we went straight to the back and up the stairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat the hell is this?\u201d I asked Louise, \u201cIs this where the servants live?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The staircase was narrow, and it wound around like it had only one purpose\u2013to reach the third floor. There were no doors to the second floor, and there was no odd smell or echoing sound as we moved up. I felt my heart pound and struggled to breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShut up. Do you think she\u2019d give up any of her money to hire help?\u201d Louise\u2019s voice was a little high pitched, as if she too were finding it hard to breathe. We came to a shut door. It was plain, even cheap looking and as Louise reached to open it, I wanted to say stop and it was on the tip of my tongue but the door seemed to open without her help, it seemed to know Louise was there and it opened of its own accord.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She didn\u2019t toss her hair around in usual bravada, she sort of leaned and looked in. I remembered doing the same the first day of kindergarten. I was five, and afraid. \u00a0My mom made me go, so I leaned in while my mom and my teacher talked over my head. I saw several children but one in particular with coal black hair that shown down her back; she was building a wall with cardboard bricks and when she saw me, she gently pushed it down. She smiled, her teeth shiny white and the glow of the fall sun shining in all around her as the meticulous cardboard wall teetered and then tumbled down. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Standing in the stairwell she turned and said, \u201cWelcome to the attic.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t go forward with her standing there and for one wild moment I thought we would turn around\u2013but we didn\u2019t she stepped into the attic and I followed. Wooden beams. Books. Chests and wardrobes. Wardrobes for the love of God. Genuine ones, I could tell, lined the attic. The floor was bare wood with tattered chairs all about, and in the center of the room was a long looking glass. The looking glass had no dust upon it and it stood at such an angle it reflected the different portions of the attic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLooks like the old bat keeps the place up\u2013not an ounce of dust anywhere.\u201d Louise\u2019s voice was flat with contempt, but I ignored her. \u00a0Wardrobes and book cases edged the large attic. I knew by the crease and smell of the leather that the books were old, perhaps first editions. The chests were leather and wood and looked like they had just come off a 19th century steamship. I could almost hear the clang of a dockyard and the clatter of people moving about with their luggage, home from a lengthy trip abroad. I turned around and saw Louise open a wardrobe. It was ice cold inside, it was as if winter and all its ice blew into the attic. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Louise unzipped the blue plastic lining and took out one of many dresses. The dresses were late 19th or early 20th century; the material dark mauve and black. Louise held one against her and it transformed her from sultry beauty to royalty. She laughed at me. \u201cI knew you\u2019d love it up here. These all belonged to my great grandmother, my mother’s grandmother, my aunt\u2019s mother.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Louise danced about, small, little whirls with the dress clasped to her middle and the material floating about. \u201cMy aunt hated her mother. She was beautiful and passed none of her beauty along, you see\u2013so my aunt resented her. Some say she even killed her.\u201d Louise said the last with a little lilt to her voice\u2013as if she were a child again and trying to shock me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow\u2019d she do it?\u201d I asked moving toward the wardrobe and picking out a dress of my own. A light rose-colored dress with ecru color lace and a low neckline.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPoison. That\u2019s what my mother always said. Auntie\u2019s mother was ancient when she died, but I wasn\u2019t around yet. I was born one year after\u2013Mom swears I\u2019m her, I\u2019m back to torment my aunt, that\u2019s why she has nothing to do with me,\u201d said Louise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was smaller than Louise by far\u2013and without thought pulled the dress over my head, traipsed over to the mirror and looked in. What I saw was me \u2014 a small girl in an oversized dress and just over my shoulder a figure clothed in dark mauve and black, her hair piled high in glorious waves and curls, fit for an evening at the opera or somewhere less cultured but thrilling. \u00a0What shocked me wasn\u2019t the transformation, the image of the ghost looking out at me from the mirror, but the look of pale rage upon her face. Her beautiful face was full of hate and loathing. I felt a shudder of cold deep within me; a physical reality of knowledge.\u00a0 No matter what the mirror was reflecting I was seeing Louise, and she was looking at me as she always did\u2013with a hatred beyond reason\u2013when my back was turned. I whirled around and I saw Louise again, the dress in front of her, her hair down but her face pale. \u201cPlease take that off,\u201d she said. I said nothing, but I slid off the dress, keeping my eyes upon her and wondering if I would get out of that attic. I handed it to her, and she glided up and took the dress out of my hand without a word. She replaced both dresses but left the wardrobe open. \u201cThe old lady will be back soon\u2013we\u2019ll leave the place as is. She comes up here all the time to poke through her mother\u2019s stuff\u2013this will unnerve her.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I said nothing; I felt nothing but fear, raw throated fear for myself. I felt no pity for the old lady that would tremble at the fact that someone had broken into her house and danced around in her attic. Louise floated down the steps and out into the garage. She closed the door and walked back toward the woods. She stopped and looked back at me. I had made it halfway, my feet still on the well-manicured lawn. I watched as she swayed with poise and grace toward the small, dense woods which lead to the river. She smiled at me, ducked her head down and disappeared into the foliage. \u00a0Turning, I walked the lengthy drive to the road and took the long way home.<\/p><\/amp-fit-text>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The door being locked, Louise knocked in a loud insolent manner. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,3],"tags":[39,17,40],"class_list":["post-1061","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-short-story","category-short-fiction","tag-ghost","tag-ghoststory","tag-odd"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"amp_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1061","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1061"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1061\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1063,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1061\/revisions\/1063"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1061"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1061"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lydiaink.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1061"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}