We were climbing wooden steps now. I held on to the railing on my left, held his hand with my right, as he

Question

walked beside me. It smelled like dust and old wood, that high in the house. The boy’s tread was certain,
though, even though the moonlight was scarce.
“Do you know what story you’re going to tell me, to put me to bed?” he asked. “It doesn’t actually have to be
scary.”
“Not really.”
“Maybe you could tell me about this evening. Tell me what you did?”
“That won’t make much of a story for you. My girlfriend just moved in to a new place on the edge of town. She
inherited it from an aunt or someone. It’s very big and very old. I’m going to spend my first night with her,
tonight, so I’ve been waiting for an hour or so for her and her housemates to come back with the wine and an
Indian takeaway.”
“See?” said the boy. There was that precocious amusement again. But all kids can be insufferable sometimes,
when they think they know something you don’t. It’s probably good for them. “You know all that. But you don’t
think. You just let your brain fill in the gaps.”
He pushed open the door to the attic room. It was perfectly dark, now, but the opening door disturbed the air,
and I heard things rattle gently, like dry bones in thin bags, in the slight wind. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Like that.

Answer 1

The boy stepped inside, his tiny figure barely silhouetted against the pitch darkness, and I followed closely behind, the door creaking shut with a soft thud. The shadows seemed to stretch and morph, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the attic held its own secrets, whispering tales just out of reach.

“Just imagine,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial, “what might be up here. Old letters, forgotten toys… maybe even a treasure map!” His excitement was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile at his vivid imagination. I couldn't see his eyes in the gloom, but I could sense their sparkling energy, so alive with possibility.

I reached out tentatively, my hand brushing against the rough walls, feeling the dusty texture beneath my fingers. “You know,” I began, allowing myself to follow his lead, “when you think about it, this place is a bit like a time capsule. All those things left behind, each with its own story.”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm bubbling over. “Like maybe there was a girl who lived here a long time ago, and she hid something special in the wall, or—” he paused dramatically, “or maybe a ghost is still here, watching over everything!”

My heart quickened at that thought, a familiar chill creeping down my spine. “Well, if there is a ghost, I hope they’re friendly,” I replied, trying to keep the mood light. “I wouldn't want to upset anyone who’s been here for so long.”

The boy grinned, his smile brightening the dark as he hopped onto an old trunk at the far side of the room. “What if we pretend to be ghost hunters?” he suggested, leaning forward conspiratorially. “We could look for signs! Like cold spots or strange noises. Like these!” He began to imitate the rattling sound from earlier, his voice echoing in the stillness.

“Alright,” I said, indulging his whimsy. “Let’s be ghost hunters then. But we have to be really quiet, so we don’t scare away any spirits.” I crouched beside him, my heart racing not just from fear but also from the thrill of the game.

As we settled into the role, the attic transformed around us; the shadows grew less intimidating, transformed into potential hiding spots for ghosts or lost treasures. His imagination weaved threads of possibility, spinning stories from the dust motes that danced lazily in the meager light.

I glanced at the clock on my phone—my girlfriend would be arriving soon—and yet, I felt a strong pull to remain in this moment, a fragile sanctum shared with a boy whose perspective reshaped the world into something magical. The attic may have been filled with quiet, but within our little bubble, every breath echoed with stories waiting to be told. Would it be a ghost story, a treasure adventure, or something else entirely?

I could hardly wait to see what would unfold.