Stairs

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

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1. Stairs


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.

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