Hidden In The Attic: An AJR Fanfiction

Chapter Four

↤↤↤↤↤ Kib ↦↦↦↦↦

It's nighttime now and everyone is asleep but me. I can't. Every time I close my eyes I feel another hand around my wrist. Sitting in my bedroom without answers is just as agonizing as trying to sleep— my anxious feet tapping the floor, my hands unconsciously cracking my knuckles. I can't stand this, I know they don't believe me but I want them to. I need them to understand and not look at me worriedly like I'm crazy. I run my hands through my hair before swinging open my bedroom door and quietly moving towards the attic.

I flash my phone's flashlight around the old dust-covered room, coughing a little from the stirred dust. I have to find something that gave me some kind of answer. No one just has random phantom hands chilling in their lake.

I creep around multiple unlabeled boxes, shifting a few things at a time. Shouldn't there be something like a book or whatever to explain the goddamned pentagram on the fucking attic floor? With a frustrated grunt I go to turn around only to slip on some paper. I steady myself, freezing for a moment and hoping that I didn't alarm anyone downstairs. Once I feel the coast is clear, I sigh and point my flashlight towards the ground.

Old newspapers. Finally! I sit cross-legged on the floor, gathering all the papers I can find. Some of the titles are worn down and illegible.

Disappearance....

Father Dr... s... Daught....

Lake.... Sightings....Gi....

Summo.....Crazy Old ......

Back from..... Dead

Abandoned......de....s

I furrow my brow. Okay, well, that didn't work as well as I wanted. Regardless, I take the papers back to my room so I can use my computer for research. But on my way out of the attic I feel something... compelling. I turn around.

Immediately looking towards the floor near the paint of the pentagram, I see a shoebox. The lid is slightly askew and I can see some things inside it. I listen to the urge telling me to look inside, crouching next to it and pulling out a small woven bracelet. It's made of leather, I think, and it looks homemade. Cool.

"Kib!"

I jump, hearing a hushed voice come from the bottom of the stairs.

"What?" I respond, slipping the bracelet over my hand and onto my wrist.

"It's late," they say, coming up the stairs. I can see now that it's Adam. He looks tired. Well, he always looks tired.

I toss the newspapers onto the floor quickly, hoping that the darkness will hide them. He doesn't seem to be paying close attention, though, as he just blinks wearily and tells me to go to bed. I nod quickly, and he retreats back to his room.

God. That was close. I don't want Adam asking about all of this demon stuff. I make it back downstairs to my own bedroom as well, cringing with each creaky floorboard. I throw the newspapers on my bed when from behind me I hear three sharp knocks on my door, causing me to let out a small scream.

"Yo, dude, what is wrong with you?" comes Danny's voice from behind the door.

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Danny, you asshat, what do you want? It's late," I whisper harshly.

"It is late, you're right, so what are you doing up?"

"Mind your own business, fucker."

"No, I wanna be in your business."

"Go flirt with Jack."

"Go die."