The Truth Be Told

It was a cool early morning of November and Mandy was headed to her parents home to remove the remainder of the family's furniture and personal belongings from what was once their home. She had been left as executor of the estate on her parents will after her parents died in a tragic car accident 8 weeks prior and was preparing the home for sale. She had cleared every room in the house but had only room left to go through and clear out; that room happened to be the attic.

When she pulled up the driveway to the old home, she grabbed her old fluffy sweater, the keys to the house and started up the sidewalk toward the stairs. What was once a warm inviting home, felt cold, dark and lonely. She felt as though she was being watched.

Mandy paused just before opening the front door, looking curiously up at the attic window. A shadow or what seemed like one was peering through staring right at her. Being a skeptic, she passed it off as a trick of the eye and continued her business grabbing empty boxes and caring them into the house.

She opened the doorway to the stairs that lead to the attic and carried the empty boxes up. Mandy had never been in her parents attic, as it was always locked and her parents made it very clear for her to stay out of it.

Once she reached the top of the stairway, she reached desperately for the chain to the light above so she could see. To her surprise it was filled with an old dusty trunk, 15 or so boxes and bags of old clothes. A cool breeze brushed over her body giving her goose bumps that raised the hairs on her arms. Mandy tightly buttoned and tied her sweater to keep warm and dropped the boxes in the middle of them room.

Everything obviously had not been touched in years. Thick layers of dust coated everything, cobwebs strung about and spiders loomed the corners of every space and on the ceiling. With every step she took the wooden floors creaked eerily.

Mandy figured she would start with opening the boxes. She spent hours going through old family photos and glass figurines her mother had collected over the years. She found old top hats, military clothing, tools, toys from childhood and old cutlery. Weeding through what she felt was important to keep and to give away she moved to start on that old dusty old trunk that made her curious.

She was frustrated to find that it was locked and of course she did not have the keys. Grabbing a flat head screw driver she had found previously in one of the boxes, she started prying open the trunk. In her struggle to unlatch it, the screwdriver slipped slicing the palm of her hand as the trunk popped open. Gasping in pain she held her hand as her blood dripped to the floor. She grabbed an old scarf and wrapped her hand tightly to stop the bleeding.

After she composed herself, she began to search through the trunk. She found a small black box a little larger than a shoe box and stacks of papers tied tightly with black ribbon. The papers appeared to be important so she began sifting through them, They were for a girl she never had heard of. Her name was Eleanor McNiel. She found birth certificates, photos, social security cards and immunization records. All for this girl named Eleanor. What was eery was that she was born the same day, time and year as herself.

A little wierded out she continued searching through papers and found fake passports and ID's for both her parents. Worried she began to panic as she sifted faster through these documents. There were news paper clippings of a missing child and missing couple who escaped Canada, that were wanted for the murder of their own infant child. She cried and fell to the floor as she recognized the photos to be that of her parents. The photos of a missing child from the newspaper gave descriptions of the child having a rare heart shaped birth mark on her calf. She screamed in astonishment as she new this missing girl was herself.

Shaking and sick to her stomach she moved to open the last of what was in the trunk, the small box. It was tied with several black ribbons to keep it closed. She opened it slowly and discovered small infant remains of a baby about four months old still in its sleeper.

She dropped the box to the floor and ran down the stairs of the attic. She could hear the front door latch as she ran towards it. The lights went out as each bulb in the house popped shattering glass to the floor. A deep dark voice of laughter was heard behind her but nobody was there. Mandy tried opening the windows and doors but they were jammed.

As Mandy made another desperate attempt to escape, she tried to kick the front door open but felt something pulling her leg from underneath her. She lost her balance and fell to the floor being dragged by some unseen force. She screamed as her nails scratched the floor leaving marks as her body was drug towards the door of the attic. She fought with all her strength but was taken violently to the stairs that led to the attic. Her body thumped as she hit each stair on the way up and the door slammed shut behind her.

All was silent and she was never seen again. The police came by searched the home but found nothing. No infant body, no fake passports and no Mandy.

The house remains unoccupied, but people still claim to hear the desperate screams they believe to be Mandy at night when they are near the spooky vacant home.