Samantha's "The Attic"

In this story, is "shawl", is "drawers",
is "globe", is "archway", and is "floorplan".

It was raining hard as Hillary got out of school. She opened her purple umbrella and walked home alone. Hillary's best friend moved to a mansion in Calafornia, with a giant and a huge .

She was jealous, but it didn't help.

Finally, she walked up the steps of her own home, a old 2-story victorian manor. It was full of old junk from her mother's family, who gave them the house in her will eight years ago. Hillary walked in and munched on some milk and cookies gloomily. She did her homework, and took a warm bath.

That night, it stormed furiously. Hillary couldn't sleep, so she decided to explore the dusty attic. She grabbed her flashlight, put on her silk robe and fuzzy slippers.

In the attic, Hillary spotted an old set of . In one drawer were odds and ends, such as an old spool of thread, a locket, a lock of hair, an old key with a satin ribbon, and a diary. Hillary then investigated the next drawer. Inside it lay a colourfull , hand knitted and lonely in the drawer. Hillary shed her robe and wrapped the tightly around her. She then wandered over to a shelf of items. On one shelf, there was a round fish tank, a purse, a stack of letters bound together with ribbon, and a glass saucer. On the next shelf there was a pile of lace doilies, paper dolls, an old backpack, and a few piles of old- looking books. The next two shelves held rows of outdated encyclopedias and dictionaies. Then all that was left was the top shelf.

Hillary carefully got a small red stepstoll from a corner and reached the shelf. On it was a , with a golden axis and accurate mapping. Hillary looked and played with it for a long time. Then she spied a small letter tied to the base of it. It said:

Dear Elizibeth Jane,
You are my one and only daughter. I shall be back from England soon, so I've sent this as a last gift. Maybe you'd like to plot where I am? I'm currently at Liverpool,at the port. I will be leaving on the 18 of April. Tell your mother hello!
Much love,
your father, Mark Anthony Lewis.

After that, Hillary crept back to bed, and with these marvels in mind, fell asleep.

The next morning at the breakfast table, Hillary asked her mother some questions.
"Mom, what is your name?" she asked. 'Elizabeth Jane."
"Mom, did your father travel alot?" "Yes, as a matter of fact he did." Mom sipped her coffee. "He used to bring me back glorious gifts. Once, he brought me back a . That was the last time I'd heard from him," she added sadly.

I smiled and said, " I have something to show you!"

The End

Story by: Samantha, age 10, USA

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