*The story felt incomplete so I chose to give it a proper ending...now I can put it to rest*

It's been over twenty years since that fateful morning when he discovered his wife was gone and he was given that letter. He wanted to understand what would cause his wife to take her life, he wanted to grieve but at the time he had a young daughter to care for and did not want to traumatize her more than she already was plus she was too young to understand. He knew that the bank held the answers to everything but he was afraid..afraid that once he opened it nothing would be the same.

Maggie, their beautiful daughter with the haunting green eyes, had learned to adapt to not having her mother in her life. He could tell she was sad but she was also so young and he thought that if he did not talk about it, she would be ok. It started off with her waking up with cold sweats, paranoid that someone was watching her then it became night terrors, the same ones that used to cause her to wake up screaming when she was a child. He is jolted awake by a piercing noise that sounds like a wounded animal caught in a trap. He stumbles out of bed and rushes down the hall to his daughter's bedroom and flings open the door to feel his heart breaking as he sees her. She is curled up in a ball, clutching her hands to her chest as tears run down her face. He rushes to her and takes her into his arms, terrified that he is losing his daughter to the same mental illness that caused his wife to end her life and he felt helpless to stop it.

The next morning he pours two cups of coffee and sits down at the kitchen table and waits for his daughter who finally fell asleep only a few hours ago but he knew she would be down soon. He looked up as she came down the stairs and entered the room, pointing to the chair across from him. She looked rough, her hair a mess, her eyes almost hollow with dark circles beneath them. Before she could speak he slid a piece of paper in front of her. “You need to read this then we can talk” he muttered almost in a whisper. He gripped his cup so tight like it might disappear if he let it go and watched. Maggie slowly unfolded the paper like it might break if she was not careful, her eyes slowly focused on the words her mother had written. When she was finished, she set it down with trembling hands and looked up at him. “What was in the box Dad?” 

“I don’t know,”  he responded. He felt guilty that he did something to drive his wife away, perhaps it held proof of an affair or worse. She took a deep breath and  stood up “ get your keys we are going to the bank” she said matter-of-factly. He did not argue he just took another sip of his coffee and grabbed his keys, both of them silent as they headed out the door to go to the bank. Whatever was waiting for them, they were about to discover it together.

For twenty years he held a quiet resentment covered by grief not understanding why his wife would have chosen to end her life over returning to their home. He was left to raise their daughter alone. He had convinced himself that the vault held the answers that he failed as a husband and a father. Whatever had taken his wife, swallowed her into the darkness was now coming for their daughter and he did not know how to stop it.

The ride to the bank was silent, only the humming of the engine as houses passed in what seemed to be a blur. Neither of them looked beyond what was in front of them, the tension building as they approached the parking lot of the bank. They sat quietly, hesitating as they braced themselves then got out. Stepping inside they headed to the counter and asked to see vault 254, showing his ID and the small key to prove that he was allowed to view it. The banker, a man in his 50’s with grey hair and stout, studied them for a moment before he lead them through the bank to one of the viewing rooms. Both of them sat nervously as they heard the door close behind them and waited. It felt like an eternity before the banker returned, placing a large metal box on the table in front of them. He gave a slow nod before he disappeared once more.

Maggie took the key from her fathers trembling hand and slid it into the lock. The clicking sound startled her as if she had heard it before. Slowly she opened the lid but she did not know what she expected to find.  Sitting on top of what looked like a pile of photos, letters and journals sat a piece of torn paper which was written as if it had been scribbled in a hurry. Attached to it was a photo of a house…a house she had only ever seen in her dreams but her father recognized it the moment he laid eyes on it. 

“If you are reading this the bind has been broken. It wants the child, it has always wanted the child. I did everything I thought possible to keep it from escaping…I chanted the ritual, I drew the symbol but I was failing so I promised I would hand over the child in exchange for wealth but I lied and bound it to the room. I know it will not last forever and soon it will seek revenge in order for me to make good on my promise. It will not forgive nor will it forget. I don’t have much time left and I am afraid that I won't be able to save you from the curse. Never use the key, never lose sight of the key. I can only hope and pray that you will never have a daughter and the curse will come to an end. I have done all I can do."

He sits there horrified as he realizes that the house in the picture is that of his wife's grandmother. The very house where she was found deceased and he had no idea. He reaches into the box as his daughter continues to stare at the photo and pulls out journals opening the first one. It is in his wife's handwriting and it talks about the curse, the entity, the rituals the history of the family. Everything she had learned but it was the last entry that chilled him to the bone. “My grandmother lied to it and was able to protect my mother and me but now it wants Maggie. I made the mistake of giving the key to her as an heirloom. I hear the scratching in my dreams and waking thoughts, trying to break free. I must return to the house with the key and end it. It is the only way I can protect our daughter.”

He sets down the book and looks across the table at his daughter, the silence filling the air that smelled of old money and secrets. Both of them felt like their worlds had been turned upside down.

“She saved you” he barely choked out the words. She reached up to touch her chest where the key used to hang and whispered” I knew it wasn't just a dream”

Pulling out a bag she brought with her began stuffing everything into it as he sat stunned. She took one look at the empty box and set the key on the table before she stated “We are going to the house” When they reach the car, it finally dawns on him what she wants to do and tries to stop her but she is determined to learn the entire truth about what happened to her mother. 

The car ride is silent except for the rustling of papers as she flips through the pages, the articles about the history of the town, her family and the journal entries made by her grandmother and mother. She reads a little of it aloud causing her fathers hands to tighten their grip on the steering wheel. “Maggie, its been almost 20 yrs, the house  was a crime scene and she went there to end it. Are you sure you want to do this?” She looks over at him “Dad I need to know” that is all she could say before turning her attention back to the journals. The tires crunched on the driveway as they pulled up to the house, the yard was filled with tall weeds and broken branches. The porch was sagging, the windows dark and blind. Maggie was out of the car before the engine had finally died down and was already at the foot of the rotting porch steps. She paused as she closed her eyes feeling like she had been here a thousand times in her nightmares. Not waiting for her father she pushed open the front door and stepped inside, the smell of old age and neglect filled her nostrils.

Without understanding why, she gazed up to the staircase, drawn to climb them as her hand touched the railing to steady herself. She could feel her mother in her final moments as each step brought her closer to where it all ended. She saw the broken wood on the floor, stained with what looked like rust reminding her of her drawings as a child. She had been here before, in her mind she had seen the large oak door that she was now standing in front of and inside the key hole rusted in place was a key. It was not just any key… It was that key that used to hang around her neck when she was a child.

He slowly followed his daughter up the stairs and saw her standing in front of the door, her hand hovering over the key that still rested inside the lock. He saw the rust stained wood on the floor and could not even begin to imagine the horror that his wife felt in her final moments. “Maggie…don’t” was all he could spill from his lips before her trembling hand grasped the key unsure of what she expected but she did not feel the coldness she once felt as a child. It felt warm and suddenly all the years of the phantom scratches, the night terrors, the feelings of being  watched just seemed to vanish as she turned it in the lock and pulled open the door to reveal a now empty space with sunlight spilling in through a broken window with dust everywhere.

She stepped inside and inhaled slowly as if a weight had been lifted off of her. Looking down at her feet she notices the empty vial and slowly picks it up. She finally understood the great sacrifice her mother made in order to give her peace and she turned to look at her father who was slumped down against the wall in the doorway, his legs no longer able to hold him up. She watched her father shake from uncontrollable sobs realizing that for 2 decades he had convinced himself that he had been unworthy of his wife's love and she abandoned them when reality was she had protected them from the darkness that fought so hard to destroy them.

She walked out of the room to where her father was, setting the bag down before kneeling down next to him. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and held him tight as she whispered”She loved us Dad” He pulled her tight to his chest afraid to let go. Perhaps now they could both begin to finally heal and honor her knowing she made the ultimate sacrifice.

Beneath a small oak tree they planted in the backyard there sits a stone with words engraved on it” In honor of the woman who gave it all for her family. She will never be forgotten”