Attic Sounds

​ I grew up in this house - my parents' house to be precise. As they're the ones paying the rent. The houses in the whole neighborhood looks exactly the same and it gave me a peaceful thought that we were financially equal with the people here. There were only me, my older brother, mum and dad. We started living in the house when mum and dad had only started settling for a family and a house of their own. I wouldn't say we were poor but we were closed to being considered one. That didn't stop us brothers from affording elementary school. Me and my brother were close. The school is more or less a kilometer away from where we live. We couldn't afford to commute so we walked everyday to school with our matching backpacks. ​ Fast forward to college, I'm an adult now and should already be able to think for himself. My brother aged as well, got matured and moved with his family, leaving me, mum and dad in the house now. ​ Last year in college means a lot of cleaning up to do and decisions to make. I could be a clean freak myself sometimes so instead of the usual going to bed at 8pm, I got up to tidy up my place of slumber. One night, as I was in the process of cleaning up my bedroom, a loud thump in random intervals could be heard. First thing that clouded my mind was rats. Could be cats. Could be anything other than a serial killer living up in the attic since it was made. I couldn't care less. It's only 11:40pm and animals could be funny like that. From my bedroom I have instant access through my closet, up to a ladder that goes to the dark attic above our entire house. Pipes, wirings, ethernet cables ran neatly through the whole attic. ​ While I was at it, I checked for damages in wires, cuts or anything an animal could cause or stuff that needs to be cleaned up as well. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I brought a flashlight to shine every nook and cranny - everything was neat and "normal" as one might say. The source of the sound still a mystery, I went down and helped myself to bed. I slept soundly that night. Morning came, it's Monday. A holiday that's less celebrated here but considered as a "non-working holiday" which could also mean "no-school" day. Music to my ears. I went grocery shopping with my mum and dad. Came home at 2pm. We ate at the mall and had our fun in arcade games and ice cream, followed by watching some horror movie. It wasn't scary at all. The typical horror film. The usual jump scares by ghosts, otherworldly beings or a freaking serial killer. Nothing amuses me now but videogames. ​ However, there was this one scene from the movie that got me into thinking and considering something. One of the protagonists, walked into an old bedroom in an abandoned house. She heard thumping. Somewhat similar to what I'd heard last night. What a coincidence. The scene gave me a nudge in the head towards the screen. It got me interested. It got me curious to whatever the sound was coming from. I watched. The lady protagonist held a camera and a cellphone with its lamp turned on walked up to the attic. Camera slid slowly sideways as she made her hesitant steps toward the source of the sound. The suspense was excessive. Too much for the build up. She pulled the curtains and saw a furniture covered in a white cloth. ​ She remove the cloth slowly and underneath was a rocking chair and a doll was placed on it in a sitting position. Doll's head turned 360 degrees. I kind of expected that. The typical doll on the rocking chair scene. Wow. But then a loud jump scare sound played as the camera whip pans to an old lady that has been in the background the whole time as it crawled straight to the camera. Zoomed in on the decaying face of an old lady, maggots strolled around her face like puppies in a park. ​ ​ Then the scene turned to a white noise. Seriously it got me. Adrenaline filled my whole body in under a second. I was shaking. Scared. I was scared. I guess I'm not too used to horror movies yet if I still get scared shitless like this. That night, as I was preparing my bed, my eyes were slowly moving unconsciously to my closet where the entrance to our attic was. The closet door swung open as it made a noise longing for a lubcricant to the hinges. I can prevent that from happening with WD-40 but for now, closing the closet would be fine. Few hours through my sleep, I awoke to a loud bang in the closet. My eyes tired that barely opened checked the closet door after a big yawn. The closet door now open, I got annoyed and just closed it right after. Got back to bed to finish my business catching the Z's. ​ ​ Tuesday morning. I got school. Nothing interesting happened that day. Went home by 5 pm. I prepared myself a cup of noodles and a piece of bun for a snack. The seafood flavor added to the spicy broth of greatness gave me bliss. Though the bun was a bit hard but sipping the broth afterward a bite could take care of everything. ​ ​ ​ Nothing happened that night. And a few days after. Weeks passed. ​ ​ I forgot about it. ​ ​ ​ One afternoon when I came home, time was 5:48 pm, sun already set, blinking red and blue lights illuminated the whole street very close to our house. ​ A middle-aged man holding a clipboard rested on his beer belly approached my mum and dad who just walked out of our gate to see and ask what was happening. I joined in the circle. ​ My mum said, "What was this about officer?" ​ The officer replied," We got a call from a landlord upon checking his tenant who lived next to you guys. My dad held my mum by the shoulder to a comforting hug. My mum asked the officer as he scribbled as he talked on the radio and gesturing on his co-workers to go check the scene and recover the body, "Mr. Cruz was.. an outgoing person who always smiled." ​ ​ The officer shrugged the character my mum portrayed Mr. Cruz in, "The guy hung himself in the attic. He kicked the chair as he struggled when the wire he chose for a noose stretched out for his toes to reach the floor. He kicked and fought for his breath until the wire broke and dropped his writhing body to the floor. Based on the dust and scratch marks on his arms and legs, he crawled and tried to get down from the attic. The exit being his closet, he managed to get out the closet by using the entire weight of his body through the closet door and he dropped to the floor. His lungs deprived of air, the noose still tied tightly on his neck." ​ ​ "The landlord couldn't get any text message response or a callback from Mr. Cruz so he checked on him today to his surprise - a body that has been rotting for about two months now greeted him." ​ ​ I was speechless to my horror and couldn't think of anything else to say. ​ ​ Today, I could never sleep in my bedroom anymore. I'd always wake up to the sounds. I'd sometimes see a silhouette of a corpse formerly the guy called Mr. Cruz hanging in the attic, struggling and writhing in pain as he dropped to the floor. Some days I'd still hear the toes hitting the floor, the banging of the closet door and the agony of his face that I have been painting in my mind.