Looking in the Attic

A few days ago, I was just rummaging through my stuff in my mother's office and I couldn't find the thing I was looking for. I kept looking and looking and looking until I had looked almost everywhere. The last place to look was the attic. The attic was a mirror of the weather outside. In the summer, it is so hot that I can hardly breathe. In the winter, it is so cold that I need my winter coat to go up there. The stairs are steep and a weathered shade of red. My feet were so cold, I thought about running down the stairs to get my slippers but decided against it because then I would have to endure the entire experience over. I got to the top of the stairs and saw the rows and rows of never-ending boxes filled with useless junk that my father will never get rid of. I had forgotten what I was looking for but started to rake through the piles of paper and old appliances. I got bored after about a minute of this so I decided to go to the secret room that was hidden behind a door with the mirror on it. The lock was rusted so it took me a while to open it. I walked it and it was pitch dark filled with the toys that I had used as a child. I remember sword fighting with my sister there and breaking the light bulb in the process. I left that room to go to the room behind it, where a teepee stood. It was a room of silence. I liked it. I could just stay there for hours. And that is exactly what I did!