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Secrets of the Night

Jason chuckled, "you are being ridiculous. You aren't afraid of anything!"

Brenna knew that wasn't true, but Jason seemed to believe it was so. She watched him descend into the darkness taking the light with him. Suddenly it flickered and went out. She heard his screams echo up the corridor, and she ran to the edge of the stairs ready to go in after him. She halted before her foot touched the first step.

"Boo!" he screamed as he turned the light on and directed it up at his face.

"Very funny," Brenna made sure her voice reflected her true feelings on the subject.

Jason offered her his hand chivalrously, and realizing how ridiculous she had been, she accepted it and followed him down the steps. He found the cord that turned on the light at the bottom of the steps and a dusky yellow light spilled around them. Brenna's eyes adjusted quickly, and she backed up a step.

"Jeez-y peezy." Jason gasped. "She was a witch."

Brenna looked at the objects nervously, "Not herÂ…"

"What do you mean?" Jason asked walking toward an altar in the far corner.

"Don't touch it," Brenna begged unwilling to take the last step into the basement. "It's not hers, please. Let's go upstairs."

"What's going on Brenna?" Jason asked looking at a picture on the altar. "Who is this guy? Come look."

Brenna's foot hesitated, it was as if stepping over the threshold would seal her fate, and she would forever be transitioned into something else. Someone else. In this basement her grandmother had hidden the keys to her past, but the question was did she want to let her past dictate her future? If she left now, perhaps she could continue pretending that it didn't matter. Pretending that she was exactly what she appeared to be.