Remember

Karen walked into the room slowly, not wanting to break the dream she was living. There were boxes piled everywhere, paintings and photos stacked against the walls, and in the center of the room there was an old armchair covered by a dusty moth-bitten sheet. The room smelt musty, confirming that it hadn’t been visited in many years, however Karen could still smell the memories of peppermints and chamomile tea hidden away within the boxes.

She took a couple steps inward, running her hand over a large oak dresser as she scanned the contents of the attic. Her mind wandered to younger years when she would run up the creaky stairs and swing open the door to the old room, excited to find the treasure hunt within.

Isn’t this somethin’? she could hear her Granny saying, If this old place had any more imagination it’d turn into a fairy tale!
Karen smiled at the memory and started glancing through the different boxes, reliving her adventures with a thankful heart. She remembered when she had been a princess, waiting for her prince charming as she adorned herself in jewels and trinkets. Another box held the journals that had played the part of wistful letters to a far-off lover gone to war. Dolls and beaten up teddy bears had been there when she was lonely, taking the places of wanted friends during the afternoons of pretend.

She remembered the secrets hidden away in the dark corners; the time she peeked through a crack in the door and saw her mother with a man who wasn’t her daddy. She had used the attic as shelter to hide from shouts and arguments later on that year, and then again to escape the pain while the image of a taxi taking her daddy away pounded through her head.

Her days of pretending quickly came crashing down. Karen remembered the day her mother told her it was time to grow up, and they left her Granny’s house. After that the trips to the attic when they would come and visit were no longer full of imagination and pretend. She had avoided this place, fearing the dark corners would slowly consume her with their sinister memories.

She remembered the day the attic had adorned its old identity. Karen, can you please come upstairs and help me carry this box? Her Granny had asked one day from the top of the stairs. Karen had walked into the old room and started to pick up a box when she noticed an old doll sitting alone. Oh dear, remember how you used to love that thing? Granny said, going over to the doll. The next couple of hours had been filled with peppermints, chamomile tea, and talk of old memories as they sifted through the box’s treasures.

Today she smiled as she scanned the room once again and relived the memories the old room had stored away for her. She closed her eyes and lifted her head to the ceiling, thinking in her head, Thank you Granny for this wonderful place. I miss you. As she walked towards the door and stopped to turn off the light, she thought about her Granny and how because of this old attic, she would never be forgotten.

She would only be remembered.