I woke up yesterday to find that one of my living room walls was gone and in its place was a staircase that went down about ten steps before turning sharply left. After three or so hours of downing cup after cup of sugar-drenched coffee I realised that I was most certainly not asleep.
I was, however shaking. Probably from the eight or so cups of coffee but also probably from the unexpected alteration to my home. Somehow in back of my caffeine-addled brain I wondered how this would effect my rental contract and if I would still get my deposit back.
As I found myself three steps down I realised that none of that mattered. Not any more. Within a hour I'd gone down ten steps, turned a corner, gone down ten steps, turned a corner and gone down ten steps so many times that the only source of light was the dim screen of my phone that lingered worryingly between eighteen and four percent.
Occasionally I'd pass by a wall and hear people on the other side and occasionally they seemed to be saying my name. Most of the time was spent in utter silence, hearing little more than the sound of my feet hitting the concrete steps, my heart's dull thudding in my chest and my breath stuttering out as the coffee left my system, taking my energy and will to live alongside it.
It's not just stairs and turns here though, I've passed through several empty cafeterias just like the one I spent most of my childhood in. The stench of rotting food and the lingering echoes of children crying brought back so many bitter memories.
I have yet to find any food in these cafeterias, just like the good old days at school. Unlike school, I have yet to find any bodies either but the traces of other people are scattered about in the form of warm metal benches and moist pools of vomit. Seems they may have gotten to the food before I could.
I don't quite know how long I've been walking now. I don't even know if I could walk back up all those stairs. Something tells me I'm not the first person to consider this and that same something catches the faint sound of a second set of footsteps barely out of sync with my own.
I have company.
I was, however shaking. Probably from the eight or so cups of coffee but also probably from the unexpected alteration to my home. Somehow in back of my caffeine-addled brain I wondered how this would effect my rental contract and if I would still get my deposit back.
As I found myself three steps down I realised that none of that mattered. Not any more. Within a hour I'd gone down ten steps, turned a corner, gone down ten steps, turned a corner and gone down ten steps so many times that the only source of light was the dim screen of my phone that lingered worryingly between eighteen and four percent.
Occasionally I'd pass by a wall and hear people on the other side and occasionally they seemed to be saying my name. Most of the time was spent in utter silence, hearing little more than the sound of my feet hitting the concrete steps, my heart's dull thudding in my chest and my breath stuttering out as the coffee left my system, taking my energy and will to live alongside it.
It's not just stairs and turns here though, I've passed through several empty cafeterias just like the one I spent most of my childhood in. The stench of rotting food and the lingering echoes of children crying brought back so many bitter memories.
I have yet to find any food in these cafeterias, just like the good old days at school. Unlike school, I have yet to find any bodies either but the traces of other people are scattered about in the form of warm metal benches and moist pools of vomit. Seems they may have gotten to the food before I could.
I don't quite know how long I've been walking now. I don't even know if I could walk back up all those stairs. Something tells me I'm not the first person to consider this and that same something catches the faint sound of a second set of footsteps barely out of sync with my own.
I have company.
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