The Riddle Of Riddles

Chapter four.

"Where are we supposed to start?" I looked around at the amount of stuff that had to be sorted through and felt a sinking feeling. "Who know Grandma had collected so much stuff."
"She lived a long life, you know how she liked collecting stuff." Scott was at the foot of the rickety wooden stairs, they had seen far better days. He stood there as if deciding to ascend them or not. Eventually he did and I couldn't help but follow; I didn't want to be left alone again.

Upstairs was just as battered as downstairs, betrayed by time. The floor boards screamed every time I moved around. My foot steps leaving voids in the dust leaving a clear path where me and Scott had been.

We walked to the end of the corridor, he turned to face left. I turned right.

The door swung open with a groan. Nothing had changed. The pink unicorn wallpaper was still here, beneath the posters I has used to cover it in my teenage years, my double bed with the plain black and white covers hadn't changed. My desk still has books on it; story books; novels; revision guides; college text books. It was all here documenting my progression from the freckled horse obsessed kid I was to what I am now. Whoever that is.