There it was again. That soft, graceful lullaby.
Okay, let me start from the beginning.
I don't know what made me want to go through my old things. Just me being nostalgic, I guess. So anyways, I had just asked my dad where I could find some of my old stuff.
"You could try the attic. I'm not sure how long since I've been up there, though. Be careful. And put on good shoes!” He said. I ran up to my room and grabbed my old black high-top converse and slipped them on over my fuzzy socks I got last Christmas.
I walked down the hall and to the stairs that led up to the attic. I hadn’t remembered anyone going up there for years, so I didn’t know what I was expecting. On the first step, I put all of my weight on it to make sure it was stable. It creaked but it held still, so I went up. I was on the third step or so when I heard a faint singing. It sounded like a girl younger than me, but so on-pitch, it sounded fake. The second I popped my head up into the frigid room made of wood, I could sense the intense amount of dust. I looked around at a bunch of old stuff I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from, but the fact that nobody had been up here for years sent a chill down my spine. Once I was fully standing in the small room with the low, irregular ceiling, the singing stopped abruptly. I went over to a box that had “Abigail’s toys” written across the top and opened it curiously. The first couple things I saw were old story books and half-naked Barbie dolls. I was shuffling though the box not knowing what I was looking for, when I saw it.
