Key

Open the door and find the key...

Wait, no. that wasn't right, was it? Finding the key had to come first. Otherwise, how would you open the door?

Open the door and find the key...

The words trailed through the air and swirled around her like a light but insistent breeze.

She was going mad. It made no sense. Why would you need a key if the door was already open? Nevertheless, the words refused to leave her mind. They crept in at the oddest moments. She had thought they would just go away in time but they were only becoming more bothersome ever since she moved in.

The first time she had heard the words, was two days after she had moved into the house. It was an average house, two bedrooms; one of which she had plans to turn into an office, one and a half baths. Nothing extravagant but it was nice enough and suited her just fine.

It also didn't hurt that she had gotten a deal on it. Apparently the owners had been desperate to sell though she didn't have the slightest idea why. The only odd thing she had come across was a small door with nothing but brick behind it.

A knock at the door jostled her from her reverie and she jumped up from the couch to answer it.

The man at the door smiled politely but she saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes. He was probably worried she was going to go back on the sale.

'Lynette, is everything okay with the house?' He kept his tone light.

She nodded. 'Everything is fine. I just had a few questions.'

He flashed a quick smile and stepped though the doorway. 'I'll help however I can but, couldn't we have handled this over the phone?'

Rather than answer she walked down the hallway to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee then offered him one.

'Coffee, Mr. Lawrence?'

'No. Thank you.'

'Are there any other keys that go with the house?'

Surely if there was something to the voice plaguing her, he would know.

He frowned thoughtfully before responding to her. 'Only the ones we gave you.'

She stirred her coffee and thought carefully. There was one thing she had come across when she had been putting things in her soon to be office. It was probably nothing but while she had him here, what was the harm in asking? So she told him about the little door she had found.

'Would you mind showing me?' He seemed genuinely interested and she wondered if he had even known about it at all before she mentioned it.

She got up and motioned for him to follow her upstairs to the room. They weaved around boxes until she came to the wall opposite the door they had just entered the room through.

She bent down and opened the little door revealing a brick wall on the other side. Mr. Lawrence bent and examined the brick curiously, poking and prodding a few parts here and there. When his finger hit one brick to the left, it shifted slightly from it's place.

Lynette wiggled the brick loose and it popped out of place revealing a tiny alcove where something glimmered gently in the shadows. Before she could even think, she grabbed the something and pulled it out. It was a golden key.

'What's this for?' She asked showing it to the realtor.

He studied the key thoughtfully both confused and curious. 'I have no idea. If I had to guess, I'd say it looks like the key to a diary or something similar. It's too small for a door.' Maybe a child left it here at one point.' With a shrug he handed the key over and stood again.

'I doubt we'll ever know for sure but it's yours to do what you choose with now.'

A few hours later Lynette heard the voice again, this time clearer than before. There was no ignoring it and after finding the key, she had to assume she wasn't going crazy. She never would have known about the key if it weren't for the voice in the first place.

The box...

'What box?' She felt a little ridiculous, talking out loud in a seemingly empty room but she wasn't sure how else to get an answer.

A light breeze moved through the room and rocked the closet door gently on its hinges. She had planned to put some of her extra clothes in it but hadn't gotten around to it yet. She hadn't even looked in it. Now seemed as good a time as any she supposed. Even if it was a little creepy that some ghostly voice was telling her to.

She made her way carefully to the closet half expecting someone or something was going to shove her and lock her in which was silly because there was no lock on the door but still. There, on the top shelf was a small wooden box. She assessed it carefully and pried on the lid. It was locked tight.

Of it's own accord, her hand reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny key she had found. She felt a chill settle around her as she unlocked it carefully and assessed the contents. Inside were a few black and white photos of a small girl, a note and a locket with a few strands of hair in it.

With some difficulty she was able to make out the words on the page which explained the sad story of the young girl in the photos who had been only four when she passed away due to illness.

Thank you...

The chill in the air dissipated and it felt to Lynette like the house had suddenly let out a breath it had been holding for far too long. Like something had been waiting for the box to be opened, for the story of the little girl to be known.