This Old Attic

As I tackled the never-ending chore of cleaning our home, my gaze wandered towards the door on the ceiling. It leads to the attic. The sight of it caused me to shiver, stirring up memories long buried beneath the weight of time. A single rope dangled off of a lever. It swayed as if trying to call me to it. Pulling the rope would release the stairs, granting access to a space I hoped never to visit. I hesitated, though I should have walked away then. The last time I ventured into an attic was in the old house where I grew up. Now, it exists only in memories after a fire consumed it. 

Years had passed, and I was now an adult with a family. The recollection of that time spent in the attic had become hazy. It often leaves me wondering if it had happened or was a figment of a bored 13-year-old's imagination. 

But as I stood there, staring up at the entrance, a strange sense of curiosity gnawed at me. I had not set foot in any attic since that day long ago. Now, it beckoned me to confront the ghosts of my past. I desired to convince myself that an attic is another part of a house, nothing more.

Summoning my courage, I reached for the rope and pulled. The creaking of the descending stairs echoed through the silent house. With hesitant steps, I ascended into the attic, feeling the weight of years gone by pressing down upon me. 

The floorboards creaked beneath my feet. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung in the corners. It reminded me of the attic in my old home. But I reasoned that most attics are the same.

Moreover, it wasn't the dust and cobwebs from that old attic that lingered in my memory. It was the discovery of the ancient computer. Yet, as I scanned the space before me, there was no sign of such a device.

A sense of familiarity continued to wash over me. I approached furniture draped in moth-eaten sheets. A slight breeze stirred the stale air around me, a curious occurrence in a room with sealed windows.

The breeze sparked a memory deep within me. It was a recollection of the old family computer I had discovered when I was much younger. The memory was as vivid as if it had occurred yesterday.

I remembered the day I had first ventured into that ancient attic.

I wasn't searching for a computer but trying to ease my boredom.

The tears in the furniture caught my attention. But, I remained unaware of the damage caused by moths.

Only then, as I investigated further, did I stumble upon the computer.

"It is crazy how familiar this place feels," I thought.

Each step towards the furniture felt heavy. It was as if I were moving slowly, waiting to convince myself to stop. To forget about the room and walk back down the stairs.

I can't explain the reasons for it. Amidst the apprehension, an increasing anticipation began to swell within me. I had a growing sense that I stood on the cusp of uncovering something extraordinary.

Despite the neglect and dust-covered facade, an inexplicable certainty settled over me. I was sure it held answers to my long-lingering mysteries, ones I had forgotten.

With newfound resolve, I vowed to unearth the truth. The secrets that lurked in the shadowy depths would not deter me.

At last, I stood before the torn-up furniture. My gaze lingered upon its weathered surfaces. Although I was moving with some purpose, I felt I was trying to figure out what I sought. I was on the verge of dismissing everything and continuing my daily tasks.

As my eyes roamed beyond the furniture, they settled upon a draped sheet. It concealed what appeared to be an old desk.

Intrigued, I approached it and lifted the covering.

My breath escaped me as I beheld the sight before me—the computer I had stumbled upon years ago.

"Did I bring it here? Have I kept it all these

years, only to forget?" I questioned myself aloud, the words hanging in the air with uncertainty. 

With trepidation and curiosity, I approached the computer. I pressed the power button. To my astonishment, the screen flickered to life with a faint hum, casting a soft glow in the dim attic. 

I couldn't resist its call. I dragged an old chair closer and settled before the old machine. There was an inexplicable pull. An unexplainable longing to delve into the forgotten depths of its digital archives.

As I hovered my hand over the keyboard, anticipation coursed through me. It mingled with a sense of apprehension at what I uncovered. 

At first, nothing particularly caught my eye as I sifted through the digital remnants of a bygone era. There was a collection of old homework assignments. Their formatting hinted at a distant past. It was from a time even before computers were standard in most households. But, it was more likely a personal writing style. 

A budget spreadsheet and some other mundane documents filled the screen. Each one seemed more insignificant than the last. 

But then, nestled in the corner, I noticed a solitary folder. Amidst the sea of unremarkable files, it remained locked.

Intrigued, I hesitated for a moment before daring to click on it. A glimmer of hope flickered within me. Despite its guarded appearance, someone might have unlocked it. 

A prompt demanded a password, crushing my optimism. I sighed with resignation. My fingers hovered over the keys as I prepared to concede defeat. To my surprise, my fingers moved with a fluidity that belied my uncertainty. 

Instinctively, I typed out a password I had no logical reason to know. To my amazement, the folder opened. Its contents lay bare before me, shrouded in the mystery that had drawn me here. 

As I peered into the folder, anticipation quickened my heart. To my disappointment, all that was there was a single document. With a little excitement, I clicked to open it. I expected to uncover the long-hidden secrets that had eluded me for so long.

As the words materialized on the screen, a familiar chill was back, freezing me in place. 

"GET OFF THIS COMPUTER NOW!" the message blared in bold letters, stark against the dull glow of the screen.

I struggled to comprehend the dire warning behind the command. What had I stumbled upon? And who was trying to warn me?

With each passing moment, the shadows seemed to grow darker. The air became heavier as if the room urged me to heed the warning and flee. 

As I regained my composure, a nervous chuckle escaped my lips. I felt embarrassed for falling for such a transparent ploy. It was clear that someone had crafted this digital scare tactic. They likely hoped to catch an unsuspecting person off guard. Even if they are not around to witness it.

And for a fleeting moment, they had succeeded in rattling me. 

I shook my head at my own gullibility. I reached to shut down the old computer. I was ready to dismiss the whole charade as a harmless prank. Yet, as my hand hovered over the power button, I noticed something on the screen. It definitely hadn't been there before.  

A line of text scrolled across the monitor. Each letter materialized with eerie deliberateness. My heart quickened as I read the message:  

"THIS IS NOT A PRANK. GET OUT OF THIS ATTIC NOW!"

Instinctively, I slammed shut the document. My breathing increased as I returned to the home screen. To my surprise, everything had vanished. Something wiped clean every file and trace of digital existence. Only the locked folder remained. 

I leaned in closer. A sense of unease prickled at my skin. I searched for any sign of the files that had been there moments before. My eyes scanned the screen. They stopped when I noticed something peculiar about my reflection. It wasn't quite right.

The eyes staring back at me seemed to move. Their gaze followed a different path than my own. 

Panic gripped me as I realized the chilling truth: it wasn't my reflection—it was me, but not as I am now.

It was me at 13. 

Memories and fears surged within me, threatening to engulf my senses. I grappled with the horrifying realization dawning upon me.

This wasn't an old family computer. It was a harbinger of something far more sinister. An ominous warning encoded in digital form. 

With trembling limbs, I pushed myself away from the chair. The world spun around me as I struggled to regain my balance.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. Then, I surveyed my surroundings with newfound urgency. It was then that the truth struck me with chilling clarity.

This attic wasn't like the one that was in my childhood home.

This was the attic of my childhood home. 

Panic took over as I sprinted towards the stairs. The urgent need to escape overwhelmed all rational thought. I was ready to flee from the nightmarish reality as I reached the top of the door. 

As I descended the stairs, a sudden compulsion seized me.

It compelled me to cast one final glance back at the computer.

In the dim light, I saw the power cord hanging from the side of the desk, disconnected. from any power source. 

Without further hesitation, I launched myself down the remaining steps. I propelled myself forward.

Reaching the bottom, I seized the rope and yanked it. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud.

Struggling to control the shaking that had taken over my hands, I managed to secure the latch. I hoped to contain whatever force lurked within. 

For a moment, I stood there, gasping for breath. I stared at the closed attic door. A sense of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Then, as if on cue, the faint glow from the computer flickered and vanished. 

It left behind only the eerie silence of the empty house.