We sat with Philip and Maja on the mouldy staircase leading up to the attic of my great-grandfather's house. Apart from us, the old house was empty, but there was an air of something more than forgotten scrapbooks and cobwebs on the ceiling. - 'I swear, I heard something up there,' Philip whispered, rubbing the torch against his trousers. - Like someone was walking above us. Maja raised her eyebrows and looked at me expectantly. She had been urging us to go to that attic for a week. None of us had the courage to do it ourselves. It seemed silly to me. After all, it's just old boards, pigeons and maybe a bat. But when Maja pressed the handle and the door creaked deafeningly, I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck. Behind the door there was perfect silence for a moment. - What do you think is in there? - Maja asked in a whisper. - Old things, dust, maybe some ghost of Aunt Genowefa - Filip tried to joke, but he was clearly tense. Suddenly a muffled, snoring sound came from behind the door. Maja took a step back and Filip squeezed my hand. We looked at each other, laughing nervously. Then the loft door, which had creaked for years with every gust of wind, now shook, as if someone or something on the other side was pushing against it, trying to open it. We held our breath. The shadow of a hand appeared on the doorknob, although neither of us had touched it....