You don't know.
There are many times I work up here alone.
With them.
You see, it seems the attic holds a little known secret. A small room tucked under the eves. That's where it started. The steamer trunk in the corner of that tiny chamber.
The dresses folded inside the brittle tissue paper were exquisite. One couldn't help but touch them, and puzzle over from whence they came. An odd note accompanied the trunk; '1832 - Meine Braut Hildegard, dass sie nun in Ruhe schlaeft' it read. I ignored it.
Now, I am in the business of old clothes. Such was the needlework on these dresses - the beading so intricate; indeed they were fit for a princess - I had to have them in my collection.
Ever since, I have been plagued by bad spirits, they lurk in every corner. They move pieces of clothing around - especially the wedding dresses. Pins fly out of darkened corners. Scissors appear to seemingly hover over newly tattered lace gowns. Scraps of lace appear on an old mannequin. Over and over again. Evenings, when the wind blows through the leaky roof, I can hear her - it must be her, searching for her groom; she is lost to him.
It is with a pounding heart and sweaty palms I write this as a warning to you. I sold those dresses - I didn't dare tell the person who purchased them, but the ghosts remain here. I got rid of the trunk to no avail - they must find comfort amongst the other period clothing. I move with them now, I speak kindly and have been forewarned that they would like me to join them someday soon.
Immediately after this was shot - the hat flew off the mannequin. Lower left corner shows unexplained movement.
Unexplained shadows on the floor near where I found the old steamer trunk.
Almost looks like a hand or claw. Taken evening of May 25, 2011. I was the only one there.
0 comments:
Post a Comment