Malorie stepped into the clear sunlight dripping from the crack in the worn down ceiling. She clung her ragged sketchbook close to her chest, thinking of the secrets it held. "The magic in this book will never be shown to Stinkface Langston!" She muttered to herself. The attic seemed more dusty this morning. Dirt and dust flew into the air as the door in the floor was flung open. The rusty hinges screeched open, ringing her ears, scarring her eardrums. Malorie's sketchbook thudded to the ground as hands swung up to cloud out the sound of the squeaky hinges. She mimicked her sketchbook and thudded on top of it to hide it from the elusive person hiking up the creaking closet stairs. A deep brown head of hair peeked out from the open door. She soon realized the mysterious person was the snooty Professor Langston.
Professor Langston was a broad, 43-year-old man, with wrinkles surrounding the foggy eyeglass he squeezed over his grey-colored, right eye. His very dark brown hair was parted neatly down the left side of his head. It looked crusty from too many doses of hairspray. His neat suit was a dark grey color. Shoulder pads made the man look rectangular shaped.
"Malorie, Malorie," he began with a threatening look in his eyes, "have you finished the portrait I called for a week ago? I should look heroic in this one, with my sleek hair billowing in the wind!" His glare still sunk into my eyes.
Malories eyes wanted to roll because of his repetitive order, but She knew that he would not let her have dinner for a week, "But professor, don't all of the portraits I draw radiate the same expression of power?"
He seemed to hypnotize me with his ugly gaze of fire.
"Are you resisting my demands? Do you want shlop for the rest of the month? Or should I not give you any food for a week? You will obey every word I say, or else the punishment will be fatal, understand you blathering Baboon?!?"
Malories emotions mixed between anger, hatred and saddens, "Yes sir!" She replied hastily.
"Now stand up Little Miss Baboon, you shouldn't disrespect the power I have in this household."
Her face suddenly felt hot with worry. Her chest felt hollow as She thought of her sketchbook, hidden under her legs. How would she hide it from Professor Stinkface? She quickly thought of sneaky strategies to protect such magic in her clutches. She silently pushed the ragged sketchbook into the back of her midnight blue shirt, and tucked in the back of the shirt so it wouldn't fall out. She stood up with her hands strung behind her back.
"What do you have behind you girl?" Langston stared Malorie down through the fogged eyeglass on his face, "Well, aren't you going to show me you worthless rat?" She made sure the sketchbook under her shirt was secure, and reviled her dirty hands to him. The only thing on them was dirt tunneling through the ridges in her hands. "Suspicious..." He muttered, scratching his smooth, square-shaped chin. Worry jolted up Malorie's throat. She knew Professor Langston was a very smart guy, for he's founded her out before.
His expression shifted, and the fire in her throat died down, "Now, how about that portrait, girl?"
Worry seized her once more from thoughts of the portrait, "Well, Professor, you see, you haven't been giving me enough time the long I've been here. Just one more week, and it'll be done, I promise Sir!"
Sizzling fire swam in his eyes. Langston approached Malorie and seized her shirt collar. Her body went hollow as a log in panic for the sketchbook. It slowly slipped down Malorie's shirt, untying it and her worn down book pelted the ground, "This will be your- what was that sound?" Fear glued to her heart. Not the sketchbook!! She thought desperately. She prayed he wouldn't notice.
"Maybe someone dropped something heavy in the room below." Malorie quickly replied.
"Don't lie to me you Filthy Rat!" The Professor glanced at the floor behind her, "What's this?" He interjected.
"Uh, what's what?" She tried to distract him.
"That?" He shoved her hard to the ground, reaching for the sketchbook. More panic was added to her fear and anguish as he picked up the book, "I'm going to keep this, and I'll see what I will do with it once my portrait is complete!" Langston spun around and headed towards the creaky old stairs. Halfway down the stairs, where she could still see his popped up, he glared at her saying, "Oh, and by the way, your not receiving food for the rest of the week!" Then he stalked down the rest of the stairs, slamming the door in the ground. The stiff hinges once again scraped at her eardrums. the sound of the lock of the door triggered Malorie's tears.
The one chance I had... and I lost it! Malorie thought, sobbing her heart out, I lost my only chance of escape!!

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Whooooooo... the eerie sound stumbled through the dim crack in the ceiling. Moonlight trickling through it, replacing the warm sunbeams beaming through it earlier that day. Wind snuck through the Attic, raising dust from the corners of the room.