[ WP ] You have discovered an old typewriter in your attic , but it does more than simply print words onto paper ...

`` 15... 14... 13... 12...'' 
 
 Faster, faster, Emma and Tommy already found a place I need to find a-the attic! But I hesitated, hand touching the banister that led to the second floor. Mommy said the attic was off-limits, something that Emma, Tommy and Ryan agreed to without thought, but I frowned. The attic? What could be so bad about the stinky, dirty- 
 
 `` 11... 10... 9... 8...'' 
 
 Mind made up, I ran as quick as I dared up the stairs, knowing the thumping of my feet would be a good enough indication that I was on the second floor. My heart stuttered, seeing the door that led to the attic, but Ryan's voice still echoed from downstairs and it was all I needed to push myself forward to open the door- 
 
 The door did n't squeak. Weird, all doors in grandma's house squeaked. 
 
 But it meant that I could close it silently, which I did, the small'click' of the door closing the only noise it made. I turned, the stairs to the attic, too, did n't seem to fit the rest of the house. They looked... newer, not like the stairs that led to the kitchen that had the last trick step Emma kept tripping on. But new stairs meant stairs that did n't squeak and with a stealth I did n't know I had, I climbed, leaving behind the door and Ryan's counting. 
 
 There were fifteen steps in total. I know. I counted. At the top, though, I found to my surprise, a table. A new looking table. With an old typewriter on it which did n't seem to rightly fit in this new looking room. 
 
 `` Huh.'' I said. This was odd, considering there was nothing else in the attic, just a new looking table and an old looking type writer. I moved forward. There was one sheet of paper already in the typewriter. Maybe grandma was about to write something? But the paper was blank. 
 
 Mommy said not to touch things that were n't yours, but since this was grandma's, and since she's family, technically- 
 
 I typed my name, `` R-i-l-e-y.'' The click-clack of the old typewriter in the new room echoed off the walls. 
 
 `` My... name... is... R-i-l-e-y.'' I typed slowly. I did n't want to mess up, the words looked pretty on the paper and typing a word wrong would look weird. 
 
 `` I like kittens and strawberry ice-cream.'' I almost stumbled over the word'strawbe-r-r-y'. 
 
 A loud thud from down the steps grabbed at my attention. Then a squeal. Guess Ryan found Emma. I went back to the typewriter and froze- 
 
 `` Hello R-i-l-e-y. My name is F-r-e-d.'' Old noises in a new room.
