| Message | Bobby had been in every room of the manor except for one: the room at the top of the stairs on the uppermost floor.
“Don’t do up there, young man,” his grandparents had told him. But what did it matter what they said? They were just old and crazy.
Bobby stood at the bottom of the rickety staircase. His face was visible by the moonlight of a window across the room on the attic wall. He looked a little scared, though much more curious and eager. Should he do it? His grandparents lay sleeping on the opposite side of the manor two floors down. They certainly would not be able to hear him. He set his foot on the first step which sounded a loud creak. The boy winced, shutting both eyes tight. He had not expected it to make such a racket. One eye opened. His grandparents had heard him for sure. Then no, his grandfather was practically deaf and his grandmother slept like the dead. Neither of them had heard him.
Bobby took another step. Then two more; then three. And then ten more to reach the top of the staircase. He was rather nervous now. His shaky hand grasped the door knob and turned. The door flung open, and in the still of the night, the grandfather opened his eyes as a scream pierced his weak ear.
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