Grandma's words echoed in her mind as she climbed the dusty attic steps. And remember to leave the attic alone and keep it locked or It will get out...and also tie your shoes or you'll trip and fall. Alice wasn't sure what she meant by It but she was too curious to care. It was just an attic after all. The place was covered in gray dust, boxes strewed throughout the space, and it smelled of mold. A single window and light bulb provided light for Alice to see. Only an attic.

She smacked the dust off the first box and looked through the contents. Nothing important and no It to be seen. She looked at some old Polaroid pictures that didn't make sense as to what the main purpose of the photos were suppose to be. It appeared that they ripped and covered in something that was still sticky. Alice figured a logical reason. Mice must have eaten away at certain part of the Polaroids. Just pesky mice. Just a dusty attic.
She moved that box to the side and peeked out the window. What a view! You could see the whole back yard and field. She went back to her digging and found old clothes and toys from when her parents were little and some of grandma and grandpa things. But as she hit the middle of the attic space she began to find somethings that didn't quite add up. Pictures were scorched, clothing had red splatter marks on them, and there was a large book with odd writing and symbols in it. She flipped through the book and a folded piece of paper fell to the floor. She opened it and stared. A moan startled her as a gush of wind smacked her in the face.
Frighten she scrambled to her feet and ran down the stairs. She slammed the old attic door shut as hard as she could and locked it. She stumbled back and slumped against the wall. She looked at the picture again and everything started to come together. Each photo she saw, no matter if they were new or old, had the same little girl in each picture. A girl with black hair in braids that wore a little blue dress and carried a homemade doll.
The clothing she found with the red marks was blue and the doll sat above the fireplace downstairs. Grandma often talked about how her little sister Beebe loved that doll and why she kept it in memory of her. But Alice had a sister named Beebe. A family name everyone told her. She use to play with the dolls at grandma's including the one in the picture. She also begged and begged for a blue dress till grandma made her one and she almost never took it off. How is that possible? Beebe died two years ago but the cause was...
The door creaked.
Alice froze and the only thing that kept her alive was her racing heart. The little latch that locked the door, moved back and down with a long, slow creak. That's impossible! The doorknob twisted along with her stomach. The door opened an inch and before it could open another, Alice was on her feet screaming. Her cries were pointless in the deserted house. She sprinted down the hall as she heard a familiar voice call her name. “Alice! Alice!” It was Beebe’s voice. Alice stopped and looked back. It was her. The long black braids, the blue dress, and the doll. The doll! She looked at the scared little girl but she had to look again. Something wasn't right about her face.
Her eyes.
Alice's sister Beebe had hazel-green eyes not a bright blue. Beebe noticed and smiled. She ran again and as she reached for the wood railing, her feet caught something and she tumbled head first down the stairs. In one terrifying moment everything became still. Beebe stood at the top of stairs and picked up the picture Alice had dropped and smoothed out the carpet. She descended down the staircase and stared at the lifeless girl. Beebe knelt down and tied her shoes and placed the picture back in her Alice's hand. She smiled. “Grandma told you to tie your shoes but she didn't warn about the carpet at the stairs.” Beebe stepped over the body then opened the door and left the old house forever.

The End