Flowers In The Attic Book Novels & Stories

Ben stood in front of the door, placing his hand on the doorknob, and looked at Isabella and Rose. "Are you ready?" Ben asked. Isabella nodded firmly, even though her heart raced. Rose looked nervous but said nothing and stood beside Isabella. Ben turned the doorknob, and with a creaking sound of old wood, the attic door slowly opened... Ben slowly opened the attic door, the creaking of the old wood seemed to emphasize the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Isabella stood behind Ben, her feelings a mix of fear and curiosity. Next to her, Rose clutched her hands tightly, unable to hide her anxiety.

The rooms up here are just as damaged and vandalized as downstairs, with cracks in the drywall and water damage from rain and snow. There’s a spiral staircase in a closet, which seems a little strange to me at first. There are no lights up here, so Lucas and I both get out our phones for light. Lucas doesn’t need it, of course, but the extra light helps me see. The attic is large, with tall ceilings and solid wood flooring. The energy shifts again, and I’m picking up something more personal…like a specific energy belonging to one person. “What’s through here?” I ask, pointing to a little door in the wall.

That was it. My heart just... snapped. I stared at him one last time. No begging. No hope left. Then I was in the attic, locked up like I was nothing. Night fell. Rats scratched in the corners. One of them waddled right up to me. Then—creak. The attic door started to open. The rat bolted. Rainee's smug face popped into the doorway. No one else around, so she dropped the sweet act and went full venom.

Unfortunately, the happy times were long behind them. Cassiopeia took out the pictures and tore off Lucas's figure from each one of them before throwing them into the trash can. Anya and she were the only ones that remained. Halfway through packing, she caught the whiff of a repulsive smell. She frowned instinctively. When she went to open the door, the smell grew sharper. When she had taken a few steps forward, she was hit with a heavy wave of nausea and almost lost her balance. She staggered a few steps before planting herself against the wall. Her head felt like mud.

Zane’s POV I climbed to the attic, my breath coming in short bursts as I reached the top faster than I ever should’ve. The smell of freesia hit me before I even opened the door. It was her scent. The girl. The door stood between me and her, the silence thick enough to swallow me whole. I paused, letting my mind settle, recalling how I had searched the Silverwood packhouse from top to bottom. Why hadn’t I thought to check the attic first?

And though they thought no one knew, I was there when they had their first kiss, hidden deep within the attic. It was a hot summer afternoon. I remember climbing up to the attic, searching for something to win against Sam in one of our stupid games. The air was stifling, thick with heat and the smell of old wood and dust. I had just found what I was looking for when the hatch creaked open, and Anna climbed in.

I hesitated, but took her hand and followed her out of the library and up the main stairs, then a second, narrower set I had never had a reason to climb, to a door at the end of the hall I had always assumed was a linen closet. Nora went up on her toes and turned the handle with both hands, then pushed the door open with a creak to reveal a dusty attic space full of boxes. Before entering, Nora turned around and pressed her finger to her lips. Then, she quietly tiptoed into the room. That was when I probably should have turned around. But I didn’t. I wasn’t sure why; curiosity, I supposed. I glanced over my shoulder, then followed her in. It was warmer in the small room, the air smelling of

Callie opened her eyes and she was inside the attic, she looked around and realized it wasn’t hers but she also recognized it. She had been there before. It looked like the same attic where she saw the boy with the green eyes, she spun around and saw a mirror with bronze framing, it had carvings all over it. She walked over curious, her fingers traced all over the carvings committing everything to memory. It was very fine work and she smiled her eyes appreciating it. She took a step back and decided to explore the rest of the attic.

What the fuck is going on? We get to the attic and she opens the door. I was dreading the sight. "What in the-" So many dead bouquets of mostly roses and they each had letters stuck to them. "Mom? What is all this? What is going on? I was terrified. I couldn't breathe properly. I think I had a PTSD for roses. It was so believable now that he was stalking her. He always used roses.

But there is a voice at the back of my mind telling me he'd fail, that I will leave the rest of my life here, and he'd probably marry Avanka fucking Granger, who's had her eye on him since we were in high school. ... Flora came to my room the following morning to give me a tour of her greenhouse. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Sunlight poured through the arched glass ceiling, and the scent of flowers wrapped around us. Rows upon rows of flowers stretched in every direction. “You planted all these?” I asked in amazement, and Flora smiled proudly. “Mama and I did. We were always bringing home new flowers.” She gently brushed her fingertips over a blooming white rose.