Every summer I was forced to stay at my wicked Great Aunt Miriam's house. It's an old house deep within the poison ivy filled woods. The house was built in 1890 and is now falling apart. The lawn surrounding it is filled with tall grass and weeds. Auntie Miriam cannot mow the lawn in her old age. My parents used to force my older brother and sister to mow it during our long summer visits. It has not been mowed since two summers ago. Partly because my brother and sister went away to college and partly because the rusty, old mower broke.

Whenever I stay at Auntie Miriam's, I sleep in a tiny bedroom directly below the attic. I genuinely loathed that room. It smelled putrid, and there was always an unwanted visitor lurking in the shadows of the bed for me to scramble up the stairs. When I'd get to the room she'd leap into the air and latch her claws into my back with a hiss. I'd try to shake her off until she'd fall to the ground. She'd hiss at me again and then bolt down the stairs. The only time she was ever in my room was when she knew I'd be headed up there.

I never knew a cat as evil as she was. She seemed to always know when I was coming for a visit. I really dredged these visits, but I was forced to come here.

When I arrived that summer, Auntie Miriam practically pushed me up the stairs.

"Jeremy, you had better hurry it up with putting away your belongings! You have got work to do! You hear me, boy?" she screeched in my ear as she pushed me.

"Yes, ma'am!" I replied, trying my best to hide my hatred for her.

I hurried up stairs and threw everything I had packed into drawers. Soon after I finished I felt his claws once again.

"Get off of me you filthy thing!" I growled at Auntie Miriam's beloved cat, Lovely. It's funny how her name is Lovely when she is far from it.

When I finished unpacking, Auntie Miriam told me to clean out the attic. The attic door was in my bedroom. I grabbed the rope and lowered down the steps. Upon entering the attic, I realize how much I hated Auntie Miriam. She sent me to clean the attic on the hottest day of summer.

I was already sweltering even though I had been there less than five minutes. I spent 3 hours organizing everything. My clothes were soaked through.

When I had finished, I found on old wooden chest with an intriguing design carved into the top and sides.

I knelt down to get a better look. There were words carved into the lid. I took out a small keychain flashlight as I could not read them in the darkness of the attic.

Let this chest lay at your feet
Disobey and you will rue
Let this chest lay in defeat
Disobey and darkness will surround you

I started to fiddle with the rusted lock, then stopped myself. What if the poem was true? I asked myself silently.

"Wait! When do I ever listen to authority?!" I asked in a near yell.

I ripped off the lock and opened the chest. A gust off sour smelling wind threw me to the floor. I blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was in a moist, dark cellar.