This is a shortstory about a boy, his complicated life and pointless, never-ending stairs. I have nothing more to say.


1. Stairs



I walked and I walked but it lead to nowhere. It always did. I always ended up in my room – exactly where I started. Nothing ever changed. I could go on for days, walking day and night, but nothing happened. I took the last step and tried to keep my eyes open. It was impossible. As always, I heard a distant whisper just before I blacked out. I couldn’t quite figure out who talked to me and what they said.

I woke up in my bedroom. Ofcourse I did. My light was on and everything looked formidable and perfect – just like she wanted it to. I walked to my kitchen where I found some grapes and made some tea. I poked the grape with a fork. Pink liquid ran out. I put the grapes back and threw the fork out the window. I went down in the basement. A key. I didn’t want this key. This key worked on the door upstairs – the place I could never go. The place where she took her own life. I wanted to throw the key away again, but nothing would change. It would appear here, on this old, dusty shelf, just like always. Same spot. I took the key. I wanted to sleep. I don’t like this house, but I love it. Because of her. She made it worth staying here. I went to bed again. I closed my eyes and was half sleep when I heard the distant whisper once again;


” … upstairs … lies ”




I woke up. My room felt cold. I looked down – bloody footsteps on my floor. I followed them. In the middle of the living room was a rope. I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t avoid it. I had to pick it up. So I did, and then I continued following the bloody footsteps. They led to the stairs. I didn’t want to go there. I shivered and sighed. It’s not like it’d change anything anyway. I walked up the stairs. I walked for hours and hours and I finally reached the last step. I closed my eyes, preparing to repeat this nightmare once again, but nothing happened. I took the step and faced the door. I took the key and opened up. The door cracked open and I saw a shadow. I turned on the light. There she was, as beautiful as ever, with a rope around her oh-so-crooked neck. She didn’t swing around, she stayed there, absolutely stunning. Just as I remembered her. I took the chair she had used as well. I stood on it. And I prepared the rope. Put it around my neck.

Life made no sense when she was not here. I could not leave the house. This would continue on and on. Endless. Slowly I forgot who I was and my heart started vanishing. I now realize that I can’t break free. I am caught. This was the only way from the very beginning.

I pushed the chair under me away.

There we hang, me and her, forever.

Along with hundreds of other corpses.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...