We always whispered to each other about grandmas locked room every time we visited. It became somewhat of a rumor or tall tale.

My brother insisted that behind that green painted door, there was a secret stash of valuables and a large safe filed with the family fortune. He jokingly poked at the idea of picking the lock but never had the courage when we would stay the night.

My mother reassured me that it was probably just a spare room because when she was a kid and grandma had guests, they would go “missing” in the night only to return once in the morning. My Uncle said that’s where she would keep all of the toys that she would confiscate. Seeing as how he was always in trouble as a child, this would make the most sense to him.

My cousins all had a variety of more colorful stories, such as… Grandma being a serial killer, that the room was lined with plastic and would use the room to chop up dead bodies or… That she was a dominatrix and that was her sex dungeon used to torture men. While these stories always made me chuckle, I couldn’t help but to stifle my grin when they would be told.

You see, I knew what was really behind the door. If I were to mention this to them, there would be an uproar. Even our parents hadn’t seen this room and they grew up in this house. Not only would they be upset, they would constantly pester me about the secret of the room.

I know the real treasures that lay beyond that door… I know because one night when I was staying with grandma, I got up in the middle night to get a drink of water and as I walked down the hallway, I noticed a peculiar light. The source was coming from within that normally locked room. The door was cracked open and a light radiated out, illuminating the picture of us all on the wall.

I started to peak through the crack when a shadow was cast through through. I jumped back and continued down the hallway. The stories my family told me growing up stuck in my head and I could only presume the worst. As I walked back toward the bedroom with my water in hand, I start to pass the secretive door and made sure not to even look at it. Whatever was in there, Grandma didn’t want us to know so I didn’t want to know.

My grandma had other plans. As I am passing the door, she swings it open and stands in it’s frame. I look up at her with both hands on my glass of water. She smiles at me and asks if If like to come in. Noticing the scared look on my face, she laughs and steps aside so I can see the contents of the room.

My jaw drops. “Grandma… this is amazing!”

She reaches forward and puts a hand on the back of my shoulder to usher me in.

“I thought you of all people would like it the most.” She replies then shuts the door behind us.