"This place was once a home, now it is nothing." I thought as I walked through the old house, scheduled to be demolished soon. There was nothing I could do, my father had sold the house and the new owners were tearing it down. I was twenty-five, so it wasn't like this place was my home now, but still, I was born and raised in this place, my first home. I pushed open the door, the old wood groaning in protest as it skidded across the even older floor. Light filtered in through the old window, wavy and yellowing, lighting up the room the way the lights didn't anymore. I walked through the house, the floor creaking beneath my feet as I did so, the result of it being built a hundred years ago and enduring the weather and hardships that assaulted his place. It smelled musty, like it hadn't been lived in in a while, which it hadn't.
I looked in the living room, the place where so many things used to happen, so many memories filled this place. I saw a ghostly image of a younger me chasing the family dog, a puppy at the time, through the living room as dad sat in his recliner. I looked over and saw my little sister and myself, me a little older, playing with the dog, him fetching the stick we threw back between us. I smiled in spite of myself, I was gonna miss this old place. Suddenly a melody came wafting through the house, soft at first, barely noticeable, but then it got louder, and louder, until eventually I could make out what it was. "Lilium." I thought as I followed the tune to the bedroom. I found the source, my mothers old music box, one that she had open whenever it was time to put us to sleep.It had been one of the few things I could remember from my days as a young child. I grabbed the box and opened the lid further, a familiar smell coming from inside.
It smelled the same way my mother always did, the perfume she always wore that was so strong at points it would bring tears to my eyes, just like it was right now. I shut the music box, letting the dead silence fill the house once again. I stuffed the music box in my coat, I wasn't legally aloud to take anything, but I won't let it get destroyed with the rest of the place. I walked up the stairs to the attic, one of the few places I almost never went, and opened the hatch, waving my hand in front of my face to clear the dust. I took out my flashlight and looked around, the place hadn't been disturbed in years, decades even. It was covered in so much dust that you could clearly see my footprints on the ground, and the dust storms that kicked up with each step were astronomically large.
I walked over to a mirror, it covered by a large, gray sheet. I pulled it down, revealing the perfectly pristine mirror behind. "Wonder why this things up here?" I thought as I brushed my hand against the mirror. I don't know what I was expecting, something to jump out maybe, but nothing like that happened. I walked to leave the room when I saw something that caught my eye, a book, a blank black cover with the name "T.N. Romans" printed on it. I reached over and picked it up. It was, surprisingly, even heavier than the music box I was carrying. I opened it to one of the pages randomly and saw some inane text scribbled on it. I turned the pages to the front cover, but only the first ten pages were like that, the rest were in neat, well written paragraphs, even with chapter names at the top, perhaps an old book? I turned back to the inane text and scribbles on the first page and looked around, they seemed familiar somehow. Then it hit me, the mirror had the same text on it, written along it's border. I turned and walked over to the mirror and saw something laying down beneath it I hadn't noticed before. A black marker. I looked in the paragraph section of the journal and saw that it was written in diary format. "Dear Diary," it said at the top of each page. My curiosity got the better of me as I began to read, the song playing in the background from my mothers music box, despite the fact I didn't remember re-opening it...
Lilium: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWW8DMpfI9U
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