Trapped in the Attic

Trapped in the Attic

Dammit! I can’t believe I did it again! I don’t know why I don’t prop open the door when I decide to reminisce in the attic. You would think that I would learn by now since it’s happened so many times. It’s becoming a regular occurrence. Dang, and I forgot what I was coming up here for. I hate when that happens, probably more than getting locked up here. I’m really just hoping that it won’t be days until someone lets me out. That has happened before, and it wasn’t a good time.

There is so much stuff up here! I always find something new because nothing is organized. If someone said they would pay me a million dollars to locate a specific item, I wouldn’t be able to do it. It’s really that bad up here! Maybe one day I will be able to get everything situated. Every time I try, I seem to get sidetracked. That might be why some people tell me that I’m absent-minded. I don’t get it because I don’t even know how someone can be without a mind.

But anyway, let me try to figure out why I came up here in the first place. I guess I can start with this box right here. It looks pretty beat up, so it must be old. The light-brown cardboard forming the box looks like it has seen better days. I don’t want to move it too much because it may fall apart. The joints of the flaps are barely holding on and the box isn’t even a real square anymore. It looks as if it has sustained a spill or splash from some kind of foreign liquid, a time or two in its lifetime.

When I look inside the box, the first thing I see is a dusty blue photo album, simply labeled “Photos”. I pull it out of the box and sit cross-legged on the raggedy, creaky wooden floor. I always love to look at old pictures. They bring back so many memories. Unlike other people my age, I prefer to look at pictures I can hold instead of looking at them digitally. I swear technology ruins so many beautiful things.

The first picture I see when I open the album is of a beautiful Black woman wearing her hair braided in long cornrows with beads, holding a chunky baby girl with a head full of curly charcoal black hair. The woman has an almond brown complexion and the baby girl’s is slightly lighter. They must be mother and daughter because their outfits are coordinated, as both are wearing pink and blue dresses. It looks like a happy time because they are smiling from ear to ear.

I turn over the picture and see the words “Betty and April” in cursive writing. Hey! April is my name! And Betty is my mom! This must be a picture of me as a baby. Now I know for sure that it’s a happy picture! I have the best mommy in the whole world! She will probably be the one unlocking the attic door for me like she normally does. My mommy always finds me when I lock myself in places like this attic.

I’m really just hoping that it won’t be days until someone lets me out. That has happened before Click To Tweet

Written by Dani Powell, RM Entertainment Original Story Contributor

Please like & share:

You Might Also Like

Previous Story
Next Story

Leave a Reply

Read more:
Keiynan Lonsdale’s One Month Post-Coming Out Journey

When you’re someone in the LGBTQ community, it’s terrifying to come out to close friends and family members, but for...