Brenda ascended the staircase and followed the voice calling out to her. There gripped the smooth wooden hand railing and followed it up until the staircase wrapped around to the second floor. The second floor of the attic or the third floor of their house, Brenda wasn't sure.
She stepped out and found herself in another room. The walls were painted yellow like the staircase and she noticed someone took great care with the layout and the design. Brenda approached a desk in the corner and looked out the open window that faced an open field. A little boy in a large tree out back looked out from his tree house with a makeshift telescope - two taped together empty toilet paper rolls. He snarled and threw a stuffed chameleon up in the air as a younger girl crossed the yard and headed towards the house. She seemed disoriented as she looked around.
Brenda looked down and gaped. She wasn't wearing her jeans and t-shirt that she wore to clean out the attic. Instead, she wore a cotton nightgown and her hair was held back in a high pony tail. Her shaking hand touched her face and felt the softness of youth. She pull up her nightgown a bit and glanced at her knee. The bruise. It was the bruise she got when she was in her early twenties. She had jumped from a low cliff on the beach and fell on her knee on sand covered rocks.
"What on earth?" Brenda said. Even her voice seemed to different.
She glanced down at the desk and noticed a variety of material on the desk. A pad of paper with a note that read, "Buy thermometer. House too cold?" Another note read, "Cake for Jeffrey's birthday Saturday." And another paper beside it - a poem of some sorts and a pin attached to a few charms on top of it.
"It's worth the wait?" Brenda whispered to herself.
Brenda felt cold, icy breath on the back of her neck. "You are the winner."
The sound of slow footsteps caused Brenda to jump and turn around. The young girl from outside had stepped into the upstairs office.
"Who are you? I don't recognize you."
Brenda stammered, uncertain of how to explain who she was and how she got there. "I'm -- I'm..."
The young girl nodded, a knowing look in her eyes that you usually wouldn't find on a 13 year old. She sat down on a chair by the front door and folded her hands into her lap. Such manners for a young girl. "...Me too." She said quietly.
A gush of wind breezed past the both of them. It felt cold like someone opened a freezer door. "Let the games begin."
That's my submission for last week's writing prompt! I must say I got inspired to continue the weekly writing prompt stories from blog Jottings and Writings who has continued her own blog story using these weekly prompts. So, if you want to join in on the fun, make sure to come by tomorrow morning for this week's writing prompt!
Note - This is an ongoing blog story. Read the blog story to it's latest events by clicking this link!