The House I grew up in (part 2)

October 1967:

My little brother and I shared the front bedroom. This is the same room from the previous story. It was a cold room, the farthest from the furnace, aluminum single pane windows, and hardwood floors. I always slept with my head at the foot of the bed. I still do it, I don’t know why. One night it felt like someone walked past the bed and I looked out into the hall. My mother would sometimes get up and check on us, but all I could see was a shadow moving from the other front bedroom into my parent’s room. I waited. Nothing happened.

The next morning when my parents got up to get ready for work my mother yelled from the basement. She was livid, “Who the hell has been in my jewelry box”, getting everyone’s attention. On the dryer she found my grandmothers’s black onyx and diamond ring. None of us would have even thought about getting into her jewelry boxes. We were too young to know what it was. We weren’t raised to lie and steal; I didn’t say anything about the night before.

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