Flowers in the Attic

One of my favorite "thriller" movies of all time was "Flowers In The Attic." The 1987 movie was an adaptation of the novel by V.C. Andrews, and although I was very young when it came out, I can remember watching it and being very scared.

At the time, I did not understand the twisted underlying plot, but I did understand one thing, there were kids and they were locked away in an attic! I also understood they were being forced to eat arsenic poisoned cookies by their grandmother.

Well, when we moved into our sprawling Victorian home in Bloomingdale, I was fortunate enough to get the third floor all to myself. What I hadn't realized was how much it would remind me of the "attic" in that movie. Sure, there weren't any creepy grandmothers poisoning me and my family, but the resembelence was close enough to make me sleep with a night light, at 25.

The "attic" which I was living in was half finished. It had a sitting room and two bedrooms and each room had little "secret doorways" that led into the unfinished portion of the attic. I can tell you this much, my daughter has played some very serious games of Hide & Seek in this house. In one of the many little doorways leading to nowhere, I discovered something that is now a major topic of conversation when people ask about the house-a tub.

The old metal, possibly original tub, was found in a corner cubby of the attic. It had writing on the side of it and wasn't attached to anything. There was no running water in that part of the house and it apparently had been thrown into that little corner to never be looked at again. It certainly was an eyesore and wasn't functional but it was interesting and worth trying to find out the meaning of the inscriptions and possibly when this tub was brought into the home.

I wasn't able to find out much about the tub, other than the name JJ BALL, which was inscribed onto it was one of the owners of the house, and the house was named Hanover Cottage. This information was found at the , on Main Street. There are also some pretty interesting photos of the house, which we will touch on at some point as well.

Eventually, I made a portion of the unfinished attic my walk-in closet, but I was forced to look at the tub every time I wanted to grab a pair of shoes. I am not an overly superstitious person. I'll admit, if I drop a salt shaker, I will toss some salt over my shoulder "just in case" and I get slightly creeped out when I see a black cat or a broken mirror, but doesn't everyone?

But, for some reason, I always had an uneasy feeling when I came across this tub. I swear, I would hear splashing around coming from that tub in the wee hours of the morning. I insisted the tub had a deep dark history of it's own. I even had a reoccuring nightmare that I would fall into this tub full of water and I just couldn't seem to get out.

It's obvious, I had something against the tub but I knew that because it had lasted 100 years or more, I wouldn't be the one to get rid of it! Not me.  I finally asked my father if he would be so kind to place the tub out of sight, and he did.

I stopped by the house yesterday to take a few pictures of the tub and a chill came over me. I guess I am slightly more superstitious than I had earlier led on but, these are the things I do in the name of storytelling!

I took the photos and quickly closed the door into the little cubby that now hides the tub and ran out. It gave everyone else in the house a good laugh that I am still frightened by an inanimate object, but they all know they have experienced some of their own unexplained chills.