Writing Prompt

My grandma is the living definition of a sweet, kind old lady. She’s short, has a voice that’s smooth and warm as honey, loves to knit, and has the loveliest smile in the world. Her house is very much like her. Old, sweet and homely, and a scent that reminds you of everything pleasant. Except that one room in her house, the door to which would always remain locked. None of us were allowed to go in...

I looked at the door at the end of the hall way with wide eyes I’ve been staring at the wide open door for about a minute and a half now debating on walking towards it or not. “ I don’t think I’ll have another chance, I have to go in.” I said out loud to myself, walking forward down the hall I realized that led I got caught I would be grounded probably since my mom and grandma told me not to touch...

I felt a cool breeze brushing against my skin as I slept on the couch in the living room. Out of pure curiosity, I sat up, seeing the mysterious door that I had always questioned was opened.

I looked around for my grandparents, but none of them seem to be around. I crept off the couch and walked towards the mysterious door. There was a cool breeze coming out of the door, it had left goosebumps c...

Growing up Ethan never cared about the door. For one thing, it was always locked, but beyond that, it had a huge table in front of it. A table that was littered with Grandma's countless issues of "Time" magazine, unnecessary issues of "TV Guide". And prehistoric copies of "Highlights".

Dad called it junk, and Ethan remembered him bringing it up to Grandma on almost every visit.

"Ma what are...

When grandma Isabella died, her viewing was the talk of the town. All ears passed the tale of wiry metallic haired, puggy faced, razor nose Isabella—taken so early in life. She was 71.

The viewing, at her house, was filled with men and woman from her generation, talking about how they’d known her—or in the men’s case danced with her at the parties when they were young. The women called her a wild...

There was always a locked door in grandmas house that nobody ever entered. At least not until now…when the door appears to be wide open. Well that’s strange. Syd thought, moving closer to the partially lit doorway. His grandma had passed away the day before, as neighbors began to notice the never to be read newspapers piling up on the front step. A long forgotten memory of Syd from childhood su...

Years ticked by after that moment, and I grew stronger while my Grandma grew weaker. However, despite all those years, I still visited her house often.

It had just been another one of those days. I had finished work and driven to her house, but as I stood outside her front door, something felt different, but I had no idea why. My fist hovered inches from the weathered wood, twitching slightly, al...

None of us was brave enough to see why the door was open. We had heard our whole life never try and get into the locked door. We called it The Masquerade. It looked like a normal door. Until it was open. Despite all of our unwillingness to go in, we could see in. It was like light being fractured into a million tiny pictures. Each very different from the previous one. Until it looked like one of t...

Written in journal...

“Grandma?” I shout as I walk towards the door to the attic that grandma always kept locked.

(Will finish this in a moment just had to save the streak lol .)...