We're Ghosts in a Hail of Bullets

We didn't get very far before Tate stopped me. The attic seemed to catch his interest. I tried to tell him that the door didn't open but I learned quickly that Tate was stubborn. He tugged on the string until his face turned red. Dust feel from the ceiling door until it finally fell. There was a loud bang as the ladder fell with the door. I gasped sharply, making myself sound like a banshee. I never screamed. I only gasped. But the ladder scared me. From my point of view it looked like it was coming to attack me. I ducked and closed my eyes, shielding myself from the evil ladder. Tate laughed at me again. He wrapped one arm around me and rubbed my arm.

"It's okay," he said in a soothing tone, "It's just a big scary ladder," I jokingly punched him in the side, very gently. I'm weak and could never hurt anyone. But he pretended to act like it hurt, giggling with me. It amazed me that he got the door open because I'm so weak, but what amazed me more what his bravery. He gripped the ladder and trudged through the darkness that the attic shrouded it's self in without a whimper or look back. I refused to entered the room without the lights on even though Tate promised to protect me from any ninjas that could be hiding in the shadows. Everything was quiet for a few minutes before the tiny 'click'. A small light bulb illuminated a the attic, showing me that it was safe. I took my time getting up the ladder. It wobbles and shook. I felt my stomach drop the first it shook. I was so afraid of heights. But I made it to the attic safely. Only Tate wasn't anywhere to be found. Boxes full of dusty old junk and even dustier random objects filled the cluttered room, but Tate was gone. I called his name a couple times, feeling the horrible emotion panic flood my body. I stood in the middle of the attic in complete silence, turning my head in every direction.

"This isn't funny, Tate," I said with a very unamused voice. The room stayed silent. I was unable to move because I felt my courage would be wasted. I came to this room for a reason and leaving would defeat my purpose. Then there was a light tap on my right shoulder which caused me to turn around. A tall, smooth, shiny, black rubber suit starred me in the eye. I actually screamed and punched with my tiny strength. Tate popped up from the suit, holding it by the waste. He had a big smile of accomplishment.

"I scared you," he smiled as he set the suit down.

"I wasn't scared. You're just an asshole," I replied, shoving the suit away from me. Tate pouted his bottom lip out and gave me big, brown, puppy dog eyes that were hard to resist. I wouldn't let him know that I forgave him before his apology.

"I'm sorry, Annalee," he said in a cute childish voice. I crossed my arms and tried not to smile, but it was difficult. A smile appeared on my face so I looked away from his adorable eyes. He put his cold hands on my face, so his eyes could find my eyes. His smile found my smile.

"You're forgiven," I admitted. He let me go and then took my hand again. This time I didn't mind. A fuzzy feeling still filled my tiny body, but I didn't mind. He lead me to a corner of the attic, sitting down on a dusty pillow. I sat down next to him on a pillow just as bad. I watched closely as he pulled a brick out of the wall. He looked back at me with a glisten in his eyes as if he found gold in our walls. There was a jar full of some fluid with what looked like a human ear inside. He handed it to me and I set it on the ground. "When did you find this?" I asked, shaking the jar a little bit.

"A while ago. It was before you guys moved in," Tate answered, pulling out more stuff. There was some gay porno magazines and a golden box. I gave the gay porn back to Tate since he seemed more interested in making fun of it than the box. The box revealed pictures. They were old and without color. They were family portraits of three people a woman with loosely, pinned, long hair, a worried looking man in a doctors outfit, and a cute little baby dressed for the picture. All of the pictures were of this family and the house back when it was new.

"Who are they?" I asked. I was starring at a picture of the woman.

"That's Nora Montgomery. She was the original owner with her husband, Charles," he explained, "That was their baby, Thadeus. It's a really bad story," I looked up at him now curious.

"What happened?" I asked.

Tate sighed, twisting his lips, and putting the porn down. "Charles gave young girls back ally abortions. One customer's boyfriend found out, flipped a giant tit, and stole their baby. A week later the police found the baby in a box, dismembered. It's said that Charles tried putting the baby back together and it drove Nora crazy so she killed him and then killed herself," he explained. As he told me the short tragic tale, I starred at her picture, memorizing her face. She was so beautiful. So tragically beautiful.