Diamonds In The Attic

Chapter One

The year was 1993, and I was finishing up High School. I was 18 years old and I had plans on moving out on my own once I turned 20.

It was just me, my little brother Jake, my dad, and my mom. My dad was a business owner. Well he worked in that position. He was under a man named Spaulding who was a billionaire. My dad was ok with it, but my mom hated it. She would often refer to Spaulding as 'cheapskate' or 'hypocrite'.

Jake was in 7th grade and although he annoyed me at times, I loved him because, well he was my brother. I remember a certain time of my life, about two weeks before my grandpa arrived, I was at a time in my life where I was a rebel...an outcast. My family was fortunate enough to understand that. Especially since my boyfriend was pretty much a total dick.

I thought he was good at first but what can I say? He's leader of the football team, so he's the stereotypical jock. He even started talking bad about me behind my back. All that stress and anxiety caused me to go into a sort of depression that got worst when I found out about my grandfather.

But I am getting a little too ahead of myself so let me begin my story somewhere and explain along the way. You know, like an actual story.

It was Thursday evening, rain was starting to fall to the ground a little faster. Thunder rolled across the sky. Lightning brightened the dark streets of the neighborhood.

I sat by my window, staring out into the rain, thinking about whatever my teenage mind was caught up in. Probably school drama or something the sort.

I had Psychedelic Fur's track Pretty In Pink playing on my stereo. It was a little noisy in my room. Which is probably why I didn't hear my father knock on my door telling me dinner was ready. He walked on in and turned the song low. I looked back and saw him standing there, still in his suit and tie.

"Honey, dinner is ready." He said. His voice tired from work and sounding stressed. No doubt he was.

"Ok dad, thanks. I'll be down in a minute." I told him. He smiled. His smile was the most beautiful sight in the world. It gave me a sense of hope in a rather hopeless world.

"Alright, sugar plum." He said. He turned around and left my room, closing the door on his way out.

Sugar plum was a nickname he gave me. When I was a little girl, my nickname was Munchkin. Now it was sugar plum. Who knew what was next?

I got up and walked to the door, I looked back at the rainy window and shoved it aside. Shoved it all aside.

We lived in a 3 story house. There was the first floor, (the living room, dining room, kitchen, and garage) the 2nd floor, (3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms) and finally the 3rd floor. (an attic which had collected dust over the years of no one coming in or going out)

I made my way down the stairs and into the dining room where I saw my mom, Jake, and my dad all sitting down waiting for me. I sat down and we said a prayer over our food. We were having sirloin steak with green beans, corn, brocolli, carrots and a glass of tea.

"Dear Heavenly Father, I ask you to bless this food. Make it a nourishment unto our bodies. Thank you for this day of being alive. All of this I thank in your name, Amen." Mom said. We all said Amen after her.

We started eating our food. I decided to break the silence, being the talkative person I am.

"So Dad, how was work today?" I asked him. He looked at me and smiled.

"Tiring. I am surprised there are some people that still work there. There are some people there that don't have alot of common sense. But, that is the real world for ya." He said, he put some corn in his mouth and chewed.

"How about you, Mom? How was today?" I asked her. She laughed quietly to herself.

"It was a day. Nothing really special. But I am alive so...there's that." She said in her dry humor style which was a mix of sarcasm and deadpan which my mom did quite well.

I stared down at my food and ate the strip of steak that was cut onto my fork's spikes. I heard the distant sound of rain patter around outside the wall due to the window not being sound proof. We ate the rest of our food in silence, well not complete silence. Mom and Dad did have a little talk about social issues.

My father was a political junkie. He researched and dug deep into everything he heard from the news or the paper. So he always came prepared in case a fellow guest brought up a political issue with false details. Which has happened before.

My cousin Mertle had said that a mayor we had was a racist drunk who had no moral or decency whatsoever. My father, who knew the mayor personally talked Mertle off and told him that the mayor was nowhere near any of that and in fact Mertle was racist and offensive just for assuming that. So, Mertle and my dad aren't on the best of sides.

My mom isn't much of a fan of political talk, but since she loved my dad she let him talk. And she listened. My mother was a great listener; it was one of her best traits.

We finished eating, did the dishes, threw the trash away, took a shower, brushed our teeth, and said our prayers and went to bed. Friday was just 10 hours away.