Old memories

Cleaning the attic turns into a nightmare of old memories

I pulled into my mother’s driveway, her front door open and welcoming me. I didn’t move though, I stayed in the car for a few seconds and just sat there not moving a muscle. Finally, I stepped out and went to the front door. I knocked even though I knew I could just walk in. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Even though I grew up in the house, I didn’t feel familiar with it at all and I would like to keep it that way.
I saw mother step around the kitchen corner and, when she saw me, walk over to the door and open it. As soon as the door was open she threw her arms around me.
“Oh Baby, I missed you so much.” She whispered into my ear, hugging me as tight as she could with her frail arms. Her light brown long hair was noticeably turning white at the roots, and she looked skinner, like a stick now.
I patted her back, not wanting to be rude. “I missed you too Mother.”
She let go of me and looked into my eyes. I instinctively looked away. She didn’t comment, she just took my arm and led me into the house.
“Thank you for coming Baby, I can’t really climb the ladder to the attic with my back. I appreciate you cleaning it out for me. Normally your da--I mean, Richard cleans it but that was a long time ago and I haven't gotten around to getting someone since.”
I asked, “What’s up there?”
She walked me to the hallway, holding my hand the whole way, like I was gonna run out the door and never turn back. Like before, and I felt like doing it now.
“Just some old junk that no one uses, I’m thinking of holding a garage sale and if there is anything of value by now, I’m gonna add it to my antique store.”
Mother let go of my hand and reached up to grab a string in the middle of the hallway, and pulled open the trapdoor bringing a ladder down with it. It was the one leading up to the attic.
“How’s the store going by the way?”
“Business it great! I got some great workers.” She looked down at her old boney hands. I didn’t answer. “Well good luck in the dusty thing. If you need anything just call me and I’ll be here in a flash.”
“Gotcha.” She just smiled and left me to climb the ladder.
There was dust and cobwebs everywhere, including dirt layered objects. I reached up and pulled a string. A light came on that was bright enough to light the whole attic, with a little help from a window at the far left side.
With that thought I looked over and saw the large circular window. It looked different from the last time I saw it, no longer shattered. I looked away, memories flooding back. I hate this house, I thought, not even knowing why I came back and helped Mother.
I started grabbing things and bringing them over next to the attic’s hole leading down to the hallway.
When I went to pick up an old rocking horse I bumped into a dark blue tub and knocked the lid off. I went and put the horse down next to the attic hole and went back over to the tub. I picked up the lid and went to put it back on when I got a glimpse of what was inside. Clothes, little kid clothes, my old clothes from then.
I set the lid down and sat next to the clothes and started going through them. I picked up a t-shirt and recognized instantly, and the other clothes in the tub. These weren't just clothes from then, these were clothes from him.
I tried standing and backing away from the clothes, as far as I could get from them, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t blink, I could barely breath. Suddenly, it felt as if the tub of clothes was sucking me in. Then, I wasn’t in the attic anymore. I was down stairs in the living room.
I looked around, startled at what was going on. The living room looked different from just a few minutes ago. It had toys laying around and the couch was a dark green other than the normal brown it is.
I recognize that couch, it’s from- Before I could answer, the front door that was opened before opened up and I walked in, but it wasn't me as I am now. It was when I was eight. No. It can’t be... Mother walked in after me, her long light brown hair pulled back into a braid and she looked younger and healthier than just a few minutes ago. A few seconds after Mother, he walked in. I still remember the cigarette smell that lingered around him and his flannel t-shirts with worn and ripped blue jeans. His blonde hair was slicked back with grease, and he had a light stubble on his cleft [a]chin.
I just watched, frozen. Mother went into the kitchen to cook dinner while he sat on the couch and started flipping through TV channels. I just sat on him and he didn’t have a problem with it. But why would he?
“Hey Baby, I got a surprise for you.” From his back pocket, he pulled out a t-shirt with my favorite movie character on it, Barbie.
I squealed and hugged him tightly. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
I tried taking it from his hands, but he wouldn’t let go. “If I give this to you, you have to promise you won’t tell mommy about something.”
“What?” I asked. His large hand reached out towards my chest. “Papa?”
Suddenly, images started whisking by, but I could tell what they were. They were every time dad gave me a ‘surprise gift’ as long as I didn’t tell Mother about him playing with me. But the images started slowing down and then they stopped on another memory.
I was now 12 and I was laying in bed reading a book that I couldn’t make out the title. He slowly crept around the door and sat down next to me.
“I have a surprise.”
I put down the book and looked over at him, no longer amused by the gifts. He looked down at his jeans and I followed his eyes seeing a bulge in his pant’s pocket. He reached in and pulled out a new high tech cell phone of that year. I looked at the grey block, then looked at him, and then looked back at phone.
“Mine?” I asked, looking at him now.
“As long as you promise not to tell anyone, not just your mama, you can't tell anyone.”
My eyes got sad, at that age knowing now what was going on between us was wrong. But my eyes slid down to the cell phone and I knew him touching was worth it.
“Ok, I promise.” I closed my eyes and stuck out my chest for his hands. Instead I got a rough push onto my back and I flopped down. My eyes opened up in surprise.
“W-what are you doing.” He didn’t answer, just started undressing me and kissing me up and down my neck. I fought against him. “I take it back, I don’t want it, stop, please papa stop it!” I cried.
I looked away as my 12 year-old-self lost her virginity. Then I heard the chimes of the clock in the hallway, 8 chimes meaning 8 o'clock. I instantly looked over at the cracked open door and, like I remember, there Mother was standing there just watching. There was no expression on her face, not surprise, not disgust, just there, staring at me while he raped me.
Then, she walked away like she didn't see anything, like she was just walking through the hallway like every other night. It wasn't like the thing she ‘loved most in the world’ was being brutally raped and assaulted in front of her.
Then images started whizzing by again, but all were again recognizable and all the times were me getting rapped by him, over and over and over never stopping. But then they started slowing down for another memory.
I was laying in bed, naked and 16. He was sitting on the side of my bed buttoning up his flannel red shirt. He looked at the door as I looked at the wall, wishing I had a window in my room. Maybe I can get him to get that for me next. I thought.
“I think we should stop this.” He said, not making eyes contact.
My head snapped over to him. “What?”
He finally looked over at me. “You're getting too old for my taste, I get no pleasure of love with you anymore.”
I sat up and took him by his shoulders. “You have raped me since a kid and you think you can just throw me away like- like- like this! That’s complete bull!”
He pulled my arms off of him and pushed me down on the bed and layed over me, pinning my arms down with his hands and my legs with his. “I haven't raped you, I've made love to you, I've turned you into a woman, perfect for the next guy to take. And I’m your father, you will love me and respect me no matter what and I can do whatever I want to do to you.”
He got off of me and walked out of the door and left me there crying in my bed.
After 3 hours, I got changed and started walking to the living room, hoping to escape the house from the front door, having nowhere else out. I stopped in my tracks when I saw him and Mother sitting there cuddling. I didn’t know how to get out of the house, so instead I went to the attic. I pulled down the ladder, climbed up. I looked around, seeing what I could do. Then I spotted the window that was right next to a tree I climb almost every week. I broke the window, climbed onto the tree, climbed down, and sprinted to the police station. I never looked back and I never stopped running, afraid that he figured out that I broke out and was going to the police.
When I got there, I told them about what has been happening. They swabbed me and then they wrote down, recorded, and taped my story and then left to arrest him.
But, i didn't stick around, I was too scared. I snuck out of the station and went to the house where the police were towing him away. Mother of course chased after him in our red Ford truck.
I ran into the house and broke into his office and went over to the safe he has under his desk behind a fake back to the desk. I typed in the code and the safe’s door popped open and I reached in and grabbed out 3 wads of 100$ bills.
I left the house, planning to never return, and I got an apartment, a good paying job, and lived out my years. But when I turned 25, for some reason I started getting homesick. I wondered what happened with him, with mother. One day my heart couldn't take anymore and I called mother up to realize she was still alive and he was in jail.
Tears were leaking from my eyes and I closed my eyes to wipe them away. I opened them and I was back in the attic. I couldn’t help my feelings, I had to get out of the house.
I climbed down the ladder quickly, almost tripping and falling. I ran into the kitchen where Mother was.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” She asked, setting down her mug of a drink.
“I’m taking a breath, getting some fresh air. I’ll be back.” Before she could say anything, I walked swiftly to the door and she followed.
I unlocked my car while she just stood there. “B-B-But-”
I opened the car door and looked up at her. “I promise, I’ll be back.”
I hopped into the car and drove off with a destination in mind. I arrived in 30 minutes flat and got out of the car and went into the large brick place. I went through scanning and sat down at a chair in front of a window.
I saw them walking with him towards me. The closer he got, the more the pit of my stomach grew. But i swore I wouldn't regret this. He sat down across from me, anger in his eyes when he saw me. His hair was still slicked back, but he had a noticeable receding hairline and his eyes looked droopy and he looked like death was latched onto his shoulder and was sucking life out of him.
He picked up the black phone on his side and I picked up mine, neither losing eye contact.
“You b**** Baby.”
“Papa.”

Author's Note

I didn't know what genera this would be so sorry about that but please enjoy