As I said before, I spent most of my young life locked away inside my house. Similar to the Dollanganger children who only got to see the small room on the north wing and the large attic, but not of the rest of the mansion until they escaped from their captivity, I got to know every little nook and cranny of the house, I could sketch a detailed drawing of every room in the house, except one room. I have spent numerous hours in each room except one room at the corner of the house. The door was always locked and even our parents never went in it. They even made sure to tell us to never go in there, but that didn't stop Bill.

I remember one morning I passed the door to the "Forbidden Room" and Bill was standing on a chair, trying to reach something.

I walked up to him and asked, "Bill, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to see what's inside this room."

"But Mommy said never to go in there."

"Don't be such a baby, plus, don't you want to see what's inside?"

"Yes, but we can't get in, it's locked."

"There might be a key on the...the...you know, the thing that goes around the door."

"Do you mean the door frame?"

"Yeah, calm down miss smarty pants. I can't reach the top of the door frame, I can hold you up and you can see if there is a key."

"I don't want to do that."

"Come on, you always chicken out of everything Jill. Just this once, break the rules."

"But, we need rules, and if Mommy and Daddy find out, we'll get in trouble."

"Just get on! Maybe there's a lot of stuff to play with, just like the attic in your flower book."

After Bill got me to participate with the possibility of the "Forbidden Room" being just like the attic at Foxworth Hall, I got on the chair next to Bill and began to climb his back. Bill held onto to the back of the chair while I stood on his shoulders, this gave me the ability to see what was on top of the door frame. To my amazement, there was a key on the door frame. It was an emergency key, you know, one of those skinny poles that look like the number seven and have two flat sides, making a point, at the end of it. I grabbed the key from the door frame, but I must have leaned back too much because I ended up falling off Bill's back.

When I landed on the floor, I hit my back against the wall, causing the air to get knocked out of me. I took deep breaths to regain my breath, but as soon as I began to breathe normally, I started to cry faintly. Bill got of the chair and rushed over to me.

"Shh, shh, shh, don't cry Jill. It's all going to be fine," he said as he had me in his arms while I was in fetal position, "Why don't we finally see what's inside?"

I held back the tears I had, inhaled the mucus coming out of my nose, and I wiped off the tears on my face with my arms while I said, "Okay, here's the key."

Bill took the key from my hand and put it in the keyhole, unlocking the door. The room was dark, and just like the Foxworth attic, it was incredibly dusty. Bill turned on the lights and we walked into the "Forbidden Room." It turned out that the room was a home office, an office that must have not been touched in years; I even sneezed a few times and got itchy eyes because of all of the dust in the room. Cardboard boxes lined the walls; I don't know what was inside of them because we were focused on a large file on the desk.

Bill and I walked over to the desk and brought the file down to the floor. We opened it and the first paper we saw had a picture of our home and some general information about it. I looked the paper a bit more and found the initials "WR" on a small line on the bottom right part of the page.

Bill pointed out the initials and asked, "What is 'WR' Jill?"

"I don't know; let's look at some more pages."

I continued looking through the pages, but all I saw was more legal information about the house and the initials "WR" on the bottom right of each page. I wondered what "WR" stood for, but before I could decipher the meaning, Bill and I were discovered by our mother. She came in, grabbed the file from the floor, closed it, put it back on the table, and pulled us out of the room. She found the key in the keyhole and locked the door before spanking my brother and me.

"We told you to never go into that room! We shouldn't even be here, you can't go around looking at other people's stuff," she said as she punished us.

Our mother then gave us "Time-out," she took us to opposite corners of the living room and left us there for an hour. Once the hour passed, our mother got us from our corners and sat us down on the couch, next to her.

She asked both of us, "Do you know why you were punished?"

"Because we went into the 'Forbidden Room,'" I said with my head held down.

"And, why? Tell me why I punished you," she responded.

"Because you and Daddy said never to go in there."

"But you two did anyway. I am very disappointed in you two."

I almost wanted to cry when my mother said I had disappointed her. I had never disappointed her.

Instead of crying, all I did was ask her, "Why? Why can't we go into that room?"

"Because, I don't want you to be touching everything inside."

"But why, is it not your stuff?"

My mother took a deep breath and put her left arm around us and said, "No, it's not my stuff, nor is it your father's stuff, it's the owners stuff."

"The owners," I said confused, "What do you mean?"

"Like your father and I have told you before, when we were eighteen, we did something that a lot of people don't like, everyone would have hated us, but we had each other. Everything was going smoothly until I found out you two were growing in my belly. We knew that if they found out, they would take you away from us, and who knows what they would have done to your father and I. We didn't want to lose you, so we ran away. Everyone but our friends think we no longer exist, they think we're dead. Why do we live in this house, then? Your father heard about this house, and we moved here after we ran away. To this day, I don't know who really owns the house. I suspect someone really rich because how can they not notice the bills. The water bill, the electric bill, the satellite bill, all of them, we pay none of them. That's why I don't want you going into that room, it's an office, and I don't want you touching their stuff. It's bad enough we have to live here, imagine if the owners came back one day and discovered us and found out we were going through all of their stuff. So please kids, just don't go in there again."

"Okay, we won't," my brother and I said before our mother got up, kissed us on the forehead, and walked away to prepare that day's homeschool lesson.