"Antonia!"
Mum? I looked around but i was submerged in total darkness yet again. I tried calling out to her but to no avail. It was just like the dream I had the night before.
Her voice was fading again, faster this time. I chased after it in the darkness but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't catch up to her.
"Find the box" she said her voice echoing in the silence.."find the box" she kept on repeating until I could no longer hear her voice and yet again, I was left alone in complete darkness.
...
That night I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I was back in that nightmare. The phrase from last night kept echoing in my ear.
Find the box.
I tries looking in my mum's journal to see if I could find any clues on where the box could be located but I couldn't so, I decided to head back to the attic where I had found this journal and looks for clues.
After breakfast, I waited for the house to fall silent. Dad has retired to his study, Alex was out visiting a friend and Allison was busy in the kitchen. I quietly made my way to the attic, heart pounding in my chest in anticipation for what I might discover.
The attic looked like how I had left it, dusty, forgotten, frozen in time. I began my search for the box. All I knew about this mysterious box was that it was red and nothing else and looks like today I was out of luck.
Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours. My fingers were covered in dust and my knees sore from kneeling for so long and sadly, I had made no progress what so ever.
I had considered giving up and that's when it hit me. If this red box was so important then she wouldn't have left it in plain sight for people to just stumble across and that's when I started looking for secret openings.
I tapped along the wooden walls and floors, listening for any hollow spots. Dust swirled in the air, making me cough, but I kept going. I couldn't shake the feeling that the answer was right under my nose.
Then, behind an old trunk stacked with moth-eaten blankets, I noticed something odd—the wall panel there looked newer than the rest. I reached out and ran my fingers along the edges. My heart skipped a beat when I felt a small notch in the wood.
With trembling hands, I pressed against it, and with a soft click, the panel swung open.
Inside was a small compartment, and sitting there—covered in a fine layer of dust—wasn't the red box, but something else: a velvet pouch. I pulled it out, hands shaking.
Inside the pouch was a silver key... and a note.
The key glinted under the dusty light that filtered in through the attic window. I stared at it, my fingers tightening around the pouch. What do you open? I looked back into the hidden compartment, hoping for more—but it was empty.
I turned the note over. Nothing.
The dreams. The box. Now this key.
A sudden creak downstairs made my blood run cold. I froze, straining to hear more. Another footstep. But no one was supposed to be in the attic—or even near it.
I quickly stuffed the key and note into my pocket and pushed the panel shut. Dusting off my hands, I forced myself to breathe normally and climbed down, pretending I had just been exploring like any normal, not-snooping daughter.
That night, I locked my bedroom door.
It wasn't something I usually did—our house had always felt safe, like a bubble untouched by the outside world. But something had shifted. The air felt heavier. My skin prickled with unease.
I couldn't sleep. Every creak in the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside made my heart race.
Around 2 a.m., I heard it again.
The floorboards in the hallway groaned beneath deliberate footsteps. Slow. Careful. Pausing outside my door.
I held my breath.
Whoever it was didn't knock. Didn't say a word. They just stood there.
And then… the doorknob turned.
I sat up, heart thudding in my chest, clutching the key like it could protect me.
But the door didn't open. The knob stopped turning. And after a minute that felt like forever, the footsteps retreated.
The next morning, when I asked if anyone had come to my room during the night, everyone said no. Dad barely looked up from his paper. Allison offered me a puzzled frown. Even Alex, when he returned from his friend's house, swore he hadn't been home.
That's when I knew.
Someone else was in the house last night.
And they were looking for the key.