Secret's Within(one-shot story) He who judges cast the first stone. That's what was written in old English letters on the spine of the beaten up brown leather book I found in a trunk in the attic. Confusion set in my mind as I thumbed through the dusty pages. I understood the words clearly but wasn't sure how to interpret them. The stairs creaked behind me and I slammed the book close as I turned around. My mother's dark figure stood in the doorway. Her expression was horrified by what I was holding. However she composed herself hoping I wouldn't notice her fears, because of the lack of light in the dusty attic. "Um Mom I.." "Downstairs..Now. Help your father." "OK. Mom what is all this stuff?" "Now." She says sharply. Her voice was breaking slightly in a tone I wasn't familiar with hearing from my mother. I got up of my knees trying to conceal the book in my arms. If I could only get to my room with the book. I could flip through it and see what it is. "The book Dmitri!" "But..I just thought.." A searing sting engulfed my cheek. Had my mother really done this? Had she really smacked me so hard I had to wipe some spit from my cheek? "Don't you ever come up here again. You rooting around in things that do not belong to you!" My mother's hazel eyes staring right into mine. I'm fourteen years old. My mother doesn't scare me anymore but from her hateful reaction I decided not to test the waters any further. My mother snatched the book from me and held it tightly in her arms. Still rubbing my cheek puzzled, I walked down the steps into the hallway and turned to look behind me. The door was closing and the latch inside clicked over. My mother had locked herself in the attic. My mother was always a strange parent. She was different in style too. She never wanted to be hip or in the times. She rarely even spoke. When she did her voice was cold and quiet. My mother often wore dark colored and modest dresses. She maintained a modest lifestyle. She didn't have friends. I don't even know how she felt about my father. She was a good mother though but she was distant from us. The smack across my face was definitely bizarre. My mother had never hit me. She has hardly ever scolded me before. I was so confused. What had I done that was so horrible? I had been in the attic before and played with some old Lego's that were out of my date. I had even read some of my fathers sports magazines. Is this about that book I found? Or maybe the trunk where I found the book? The trunk had been hidden behind boxes of old clothes.I didn't get a chance to check out what else was in the trunk. Something must have been important for my mother to just hit me. The creak of the stairs echoed through the quiet house. My mother was making her way downstairs. My heartbeat was becoming to loud to hear how close she was to my bedroom door. Breathing a little slower I tried to focus on her footsteps. A knock on the door made me jump. I could have sworn she wasn't at my door yet. I didn't answer the door. I leaped over the clothes basket and straight for my bed. The covers had risen over my shoulder as the door slowly opened. I shut my eyes tightly and focused on keeping my heartbeat down. Why this fear? Fear of my family had faded as I got older but that night a chill rose up my spine. I barely peeked my eyes open to see her shadow growing larger and larger on the floor. Yet in the darkness of my room mother said nothing. My peeking eyes were on her figure now and watching her slightly. She did not move. It was almost as if she did not breathe. It seemed like forever that my mom stood in the doorway just standing there. What was she doing? What was she thinking? The fear and anxiety bubbled in my stomach. I kept thinking to myself. Maybe she thought I stole something. I wasn't for sure but in the darkness I thought I heard my mother mumble something under her breath. Then she finally walked away and left the door open. However I could hear the taps from her high heels. I had never notice the sounds of them before. Maybe my heartbeat had distracted me before. Then her footsteps stop again after they had just begun. A loud thump noise and sounds of struggle came from down the hall of my room. My heartbeat began to increase and sweat started to rise from my pores. I clinched the covers and opened a eye towards the door. What was happening? Had my mother gotten so angry that she was filled with rage? Was this about me going through her belongings? My thoughts kept piling one after another into my small mind. I had never felt so worried. Then my heart sunk into my chest. Where was my father? The tapping of her high heels started again. I lay stiff as a board in my bed. Keeping my peeking eyes at the door but trying to look asleep the whole time. It sounded as if she was coming to my room. Sounded as if she was trying to be quiet but quick. I could hear the taps of those heels speeding down the hall. In a blink of a eye she sped past my door. My heart skipped a beat and I almost jerked out of my place. Though the taps kept going on towards and up the stairs to the attic. The loud clashing sound of the door slamming maybe me jump slightly. Should I get out of bed and look around? Yet my body couldn't move. I was too afraid to get up and look around. What if she caught me? A few minutes passed and her footsteps continued. Above me in the attic she was lumbering around. My mother must have been tossing things around. The sounds from upstairs were less discreet then earlier when she was calm and remained silent. The clicks of heels on the stairs had appeared again. I didn't even hear the door this time! However there was a new sound this time. A very distinctive sound. Almost like the sound of heavy chains of metal clanging together. Had my mother gotten a metal object? I kept my eyes at the door even though I was scared that she would be at my door any moment. The sound of metal scrapping against the ground echoed though my room. My mother was dragging some foreign object down the stairs. It had to be a metal because after every step it made a loud thud noise and got louder each step. I had never saw a metal or anything that could resemble that noise in the attic before. What did she have? More important what were her attentions? I was sweaty and listening to the noise made me nervous. It seemed to take her a long time to get down the stairs. I heard the last thud and then a awkward silence. After a moment had past I could hear the noise rumbling together. Like my mother was readjusting the object. Then it started again with the noise of metal being dragged down the hallway. The shadow of my mother appeared once more. The shadow crept closer and closer to the doorway. My mother took her time coming down the hallway. I stood still and I had this feeling inside me. My gut was telling me to hide but my body wasn't moving. I gripped my covers and closed my eyes slightly. Yet this time I felt more obligated to keep them more open. I was a nervous wreck and had to peek at what was happening. My mother's dark figured stood in my doorway again. The heavy object she had been carrying too. She dropped the metal looking object onto the floor. It made a horrible sound. Then she stood like a statue for another cold minute. Then my mother turned her head towards the hall where the noises of struggle had came from earlier. What was she looking at? What was she doing? Where is my father? My mother's head fixated back towards my room. It was almost like she was staring straight at me in the darkness. My mother then leaned over and picked the metal object off the floor and stepped into my room. My mother who has raised me and loved me closed the door behind her. Darkness filled my room and the sound of her heels began to close in around me.