Samantha Carlson

Hidden Secrets

It was hidden, and hidden well. No one would have found it if it had not been for my cat, Scout, scampering up to the attic, seizing his opportunity when I left the attic door ajar. I live in the house that belonged to my late grandparents and had been doing some much-needed cleaning in the attic. Making my way up the stairs and I shouted “Come here you. You know you’re not supposed to be up here. What are you making all this ruckus about?” I found him hair with his standing straight up, hissing at the farthest corner wall in the attic. As I was scooping him up into my arms, I noticed a small slit in the attic wall, resembling what could be an opening. Intrigued, I put Scout down and dug my fingernails into the crevice and to my surprised pried open a small panel revealing a hidden cubbyhole in the wall. Inside was a small wooden box, covered with dust. Reaching in, I pulled out the box, and opened it to find a small black notebook, worn with age.