You would have never have thought that going into a dusty attic, you'd find something nonsensical yet so helpful. But apparently the best things in life occur at random and today was one of those days.

Benny always liked the city, when he wasn’t home he was in Brooklyn eating at restaurants that the average person would never see themselves going to. Or maybe shopping in Manhattan, but not for anything physical it was mainly window-shopping, as a supermarket clerk doesn’t have the prettiest of salaries. The city was my Disney land, and he was the little kid who had never been. But today was not, what would seem to be like the annual trip.

Benny usually doesn’t do much on Mondays after work but today was a different day. He actually felt like cleaning which is rare because it takes a good intervention for me to actually pick up even a shirt from the ground.

The house Benny lived in wasn’t the greatest but it was a house. It was blue with patches of exposed paneling on the sides. The roof was covered by a shiny neon green tarp, which stuck out tremendously from the rest of the black roof. There wasn’t much of a lawn, but even if there was it would have been dead just like the patch he already had. There was a broken window, here a cracked foundation there, and what was once thought to be a cave underneath the house being that it rose at least 2 feet from the ground. He found out after a night with a yard full of police that, the bumping coming from underneath was really what was originally thought to be a caveman but it was a homeless man. Not to mention the bullet holes riddled throughout the house caused by random acts of violence that occurred in his moderately suburban neighborhood.

The hall that led to the attic was directly across from the kitchen where he sat in a blue lawn chair in front of a plastic checkered table, which sat in the middle of just about the messiest room in the house. The kitchen, which on a day like today was usually the last thing that was to clean. He got up from his chair and walked into the hall leading to the staircase that went to the attic. The staircase was wooden and it creaked as he walked up the steps towards the black door.

He stood in front of the door hoping that the mess in the attic wouldn’t be anything to extravagant, or at least as extravagant as a mess could be. Opening the door he found himself in a hot, pitch-black void. As if there was a portal to a completely different dimension. The light switch was supposedly next to the door, or so he thought reaching for it feeling up the wall. It took Benny some time to finally hit the switch illuminating the attic with what started off as a rave like strobe. The light reflected off of the cobwebs that were constructed in the corners and on covered furniture, where just about every species of spider decided to take residence.

He stood in the doorway of the “portal” and looked around for some time trying to decide where he should start. And with a simple step moving forward his foot went through the floorboard and he hit the ground with more force than that used in Star Wars™. And then light out.
He woke in front of an old shoebox covered by photons coming from a cluster of bullet holes in the roof that remained uncovered for quite some time causing water damage to the floor. The box was black; the corners were worn and faded from black to brown. There was a tattered red ribbon that was made into a bow which lay on the top of the box, which seemed as if it would fall apart any second. Getting up from his current plank position Benny moved closer toward the box. He reached out to touch it and a chill ran down his spine, almost as if an entity passed straight through his body from the box. He laid a hand on the box.

He moved the box up against his knees and moved a hand toward the end of the frayed ribbon. He attempted to pull the ribbon free of the bow that it rested in for god knows how long and, but instead of coming undone it just frayed some more. He sat on the damp wood floor wondering how he was going to open this mystery box, and it finally hit him. It was so simple, just pull the box out from the middle and it would be free. He did so. And the ribbon vanished upon hitting the damp wood floor.

The box shook profusely and the little light that entered from the roof was relinquished. There was a loud crash that came from across the attic and then there were footsteps. “Click-clack, Click-clack,” it got closer and closer and stopped. Immediately after the sounds stopped the box formed a fuchsia ring of light on the floor, and it illuminated the attic. The box looked new all of the sudden. The worn edges were covered with brass, and a lavender pair of lips was brightly painted onto the top. He opened the box slowly and peeked into it.

It was empty. Benny lifts the top off and threw it to the side. He threw the lid far enough that it hit a wall and was vaporized on impact. A smoke started to form and panic drove drunk in Benny’s head. The smoke rose and slowly formed a paper and plume. The only legible part of it was the “x” at the bottom, which is universal for “your signature goes here.” Being that he wasn’t the sharpest of knives in the kitchen, the brightest of colors in the crayon box, or any other comparison otherwise calling him a dumb ass, which he is if you didn’t catch that by now. He signed the paper and it disappeared in a poof of smoke.

The house shook and lights flickered as the footsteps continued, growing louder with each step. The house stopped shaking and the lights stopped flickering, but a light shined on him and a good four feet in front of him. In the spot light was a pair of black stilettos. The glistened in the light the mysteriously shined from nowhere. Slowly a figure started to fade into place starting from the feet and progressing upwards.
It was a woman. Her tan put carrots to shame, and her press on nails were at least nine inches. The bleach blonde hair towered as it sat in a poof on the back of her head. She wore a short black dress that hugged her curvaceous body, and her shoes were just about the tallest one would have ever seen in there lifetime. Her cat eyeglasses glistened with the light. She looked dead into my eyes and smiled, “I’m your fairy god mother; doll. My name is Cherise,” she said in a heavy Italian accent. Which was understandable given the region and demographics of Jersey I lived in.

Benny’s mouth dropped to the floor, he didn’t know whether to be scared or excited, nervous or belligerent. But he split. Running to the door his foot landed in the same spot that he had tripped on originally. Landing face first on the floor.

He awoke on top of the checkered table that stood in the kitchen, now broken, staring up a hole in the ceiling. He touched his head and felt an abscess protruding from his forehead. He fell through the ceiling. He turned over and got on all fours, while his eyes closed to blink for a split second. He had thought running all over as to what could have happened, but then he thought it was just a little dream from his slumber after being knocked out.

He opened his eyes and looked forward. He saw a pair of black heels in front of him standing side by side, unaffected by the rubble. Almost as if they were waiting for something. A whisp of air flowed through the house and he felt it run across the room. He sat paralyzed and felt a hand slowly walk up his back, which remained rather scraped. And felt heavy breathing the side of his face. It spoke whispering in his ear menacingly. “I’ve been looking for you, doll.”