© 2002 by Alessandra Azzaroni aazzaroni@hotmail.com http://au.geocities.com/vcastairwaytoheaven/index.htm

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 01/07/2002

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Written in Australia. This story was partly inspired by Flowers in the Attic.

CHAPTER FIVE: ABOVE

On top of the bookcase in my room, I found a key. I didn't know what it was for, but I sure did want to find out. So I waited until the dinner dishes were finished before I went back upstairs.
The key had to have been in my room for a reason. It had to go with a lock in the room, I supposed, figuring that it wouldn't make sense to keep the key in here if it was for another room.
I noticed that it was far too big to be a diary key, so I picked up the clunky, gold item and went to the bathroom. I searched around for a lock, but there was none that I could see.
Next, I tried the closet. But it was just a closet, and nothing else. Certainly there was no lock around. So I searched the carpet, under the bed, looking for something, anything - a safe deposit box, perhaps. But still there was zilch.
But I didn't give up hope. No, I didn't. There was one last door, and I had assumed it to be just another closet. I decided to find out for myself. The key slipped in and turned so easily. It was a perfect fit.
But opening the door and seeing what was inside surprised me. It was a wooden staircase, with a slanted roof, leading up to what I guessed to be the attic. And I was intrigued, for I thought that maybe I would find something up there that would tell me more about my mother. Good or bad, I didn't care - I just wanted to know something.
I cautiously stepped up the staircase. Who knew what old staircases were like? They had their trouble areas, places where the wood was wearing through. I had to be careful.
"Did you hear that?" I thought I heard a voice say. "It sounded like someone coming up the stairs."
"It's probably just Mother," another feminine voice answered. "No need to get worked up."
Still, I continued up slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible.
"Maybe it's Far," the first voice said. "Maybe he's finally allowed to see us again! Do you think, do you think?"
The second person sighed. "I doubt it. I really do. Look, you know what Mother's like - when she doesn't want him seeing us, there's nothing we can do."
"Negative Nancy. Next time Mother comes up here, we'll kill her, take her key and escape! We'll see Far, we'll see outside, we'll see-"
"Stop it!"
I was at the top of the staircase, with a wall only a foot in front of me. A corner. If I turned the corner, I would find out if I had just been imagining those voices, or if they really were real. Did I dare to?
Yes, I did.
So I rounded the corner hesitantly, almost afraid of what I'd see. But what I saw didn't really scare me. It just made me wonder why these two women were locked up here.
"Who are you?" the first woman asked me. She was short, with hair as dark as night, and grey eyes - which reminded me of Viviana's - that flashed with confusion. The other woman was older, with ash blond hair, and an air of superiority around her. I don't know how I knew that, but I sensed it.
"Have you come to visit?" the dark-haired woman asked again, seeming persistent. "Or are you going to be locked up here, too?"
"Locked up?" I asked. "How long have you been here?"
The ash blond woman answered. "She's been here eighteen years, and I've been here for seventeen. We've been counting by the calendars." She gestured to a wall, where nineteen calendars were tacked up, each one on the December page, bar the most recent calendar.
"Mother brought us those calendars," the almost-childlike woman answered. "She does love us after all; she loves us enough to give us things."
"But she doesn't love us enough to let us out. Or to spend more time with Far. She doesn't love us at all…"
I stopped listening, because I was almost positive I could hear someone in my room. "I better go," I said. The first woman called out after me, but I ignored her and hurried down the stairs rapidly.
But just as I was nearing the bottom, I heard the key turn in the lock, and footsteps walk away. I seized the doorhandle and tried to turn it, but it wasn't budging an inch.
"There's no use trying to escape," the second woman called down to me. "Once you're locked up here, you can never leave."
"What do you mean?" I called back.
"Mother's locked you in. You've found us, so now you have to pay."
What was that? I was locked up in here with them? And all because I had unlocked the door and had gone up?
And would I ever be free?