Staircase
Half of the day is done, so you’re out in your usual spot behind parked cars, puffing smoke and inhaling chemicals you’re not really sure you should be inviting to your body at such age. You sport a jacket despite the sun glaring outside. It’s convenient as a hide-away for your stash anyway, and what better fashion to look cool despite a preschool uniform.
A bit later, your watch bids you to go down; time to finish half of the day undone.
You step into the fire exit.
Most people would opt for the elevator for ease of transport, but you’d rather be alone going down the stairs. Patience is not your best feature when you have to wait and be idle for a small box full of strangers for help, so you consider the option somewhat of a blessing.
That is, if you have never found the place a bit eerie.
Perhaps a coincidence or not, you’re always alone going down the flight of stairs. Designed for the purpose of escape, the space allows you to see from different angles clearly; top floor to ground. Nothing strange for a fire exit; all buildings have one, and they are designed alike.
Well, they should be.
However, the criss-crossed structure of the up and down stairs has been a cause of wary for you ever since. It’s not that strange by fire exit standards (maybe), but it has always amused your imagination. You can easily imagine being the main character of a Twilight Zone episode in it. So despite your appreciation to creativity, you’d rather be on autopilot now.
You round the place with your eyes before moving down the steep staircase. Every step on pavement echoes the walls through the high ceiling like a pinball minus the winning streak and the cheers. Without the usual plug of music in your head, you’re stuck in the mercy of the silence and vibration. It’s a bit too quiet in the background, and those steps, even if it’s your feet making sounds in the foreground, are unnerving. You can’t help but shiver a bit.
After a while, you slow down to check the wall ahead. The sign says “3”, bold and red on the wall. Two more flights down and you’re out of there.
As you continue your descend, somehow, the stairs going up seems to beg your eyes. You slowly halt your steps, curiosity steps in.
There’s a figure. There was a figure moving along with you. You just noticed now.
It seems to be looking at you now, but you’re not so sure.
It could be someone whom was caught by your presence, the way you’ve caught theirs. Usually, you’d be the snobbish one and would wait to be called, but it might be someone you know considering you’re picking up shade of the same uniform. You’re quite okay with your co-workers. In fact, you’re quite the friendly one there, so there’s no way they wouldn’t call you when seen.
In that moment you remember the saying about curiosity killing cats. You’re more associated to a St. Bernard, but it just didn’t matter so much when you finally looked to the direction of the figure.
Oh, you shouldn’t have, really.
You could’ve played snob.
You should’ve just sprinted your way down mindlessly.
You could’ve missed it should you have been patient waiting for the secured, enclosed space with strangers.
Surely, strangers seem to be better than what you’re staring at now.\
It is out of this world.
Are you curious now?
What did she see?
Stand in front of the mirror and count to ten. Smile for a while, counting up to a number you’re comfortable with in your head. Stare at your reflection the whole time, and never abandon the image.
Don’t turn your eyes away even if you notice a figure behind you.
Try not to panic if you hear a low voice mumbling something behind you.
Continue staring at your image even if it starts to frown.
Don’t look away even if that is not your mouth anymore; not with stitches on the side.
Don’t look away...
Don’t look away!
(Even if your hear steps coming your way)
Don’t look that way!
Don't look that way!
(Even if you can feel something cold beside you)
Don’t look that way!
DON’T LOOK
DON’T LOOK
YOU
Just a litte something I've written because of an image I've had in our building's fire exit. That place creeps the heck out of me, but I was able to produce this. *shrug* Still waking up my dormant writing skills, so please forgive.
At least I'm writing, somehow. *happy*
A bit later, your watch bids you to go down; time to finish half of the day undone.
You step into the fire exit.
Most people would opt for the elevator for ease of transport, but you’d rather be alone going down the stairs. Patience is not your best feature when you have to wait and be idle for a small box full of strangers for help, so you consider the option somewhat of a blessing.
That is, if you have never found the place a bit eerie.
Perhaps a coincidence or not, you’re always alone going down the flight of stairs. Designed for the purpose of escape, the space allows you to see from different angles clearly; top floor to ground. Nothing strange for a fire exit; all buildings have one, and they are designed alike.
Well, they should be.
However, the criss-crossed structure of the up and down stairs has been a cause of wary for you ever since. It’s not that strange by fire exit standards (maybe), but it has always amused your imagination. You can easily imagine being the main character of a Twilight Zone episode in it. So despite your appreciation to creativity, you’d rather be on autopilot now.
You round the place with your eyes before moving down the steep staircase. Every step on pavement echoes the walls through the high ceiling like a pinball minus the winning streak and the cheers. Without the usual plug of music in your head, you’re stuck in the mercy of the silence and vibration. It’s a bit too quiet in the background, and those steps, even if it’s your feet making sounds in the foreground, are unnerving. You can’t help but shiver a bit.
After a while, you slow down to check the wall ahead. The sign says “3”, bold and red on the wall. Two more flights down and you’re out of there.
As you continue your descend, somehow, the stairs going up seems to beg your eyes. You slowly halt your steps, curiosity steps in.
There’s a figure. There was a figure moving along with you. You just noticed now.
It seems to be looking at you now, but you’re not so sure.
It could be someone whom was caught by your presence, the way you’ve caught theirs. Usually, you’d be the snobbish one and would wait to be called, but it might be someone you know considering you’re picking up shade of the same uniform. You’re quite okay with your co-workers. In fact, you’re quite the friendly one there, so there’s no way they wouldn’t call you when seen.
In that moment you remember the saying about curiosity killing cats. You’re more associated to a St. Bernard, but it just didn’t matter so much when you finally looked to the direction of the figure.
Oh, you shouldn’t have, really.
You could’ve played snob.
You should’ve just sprinted your way down mindlessly.
You could’ve missed it should you have been patient waiting for the secured, enclosed space with strangers.
Surely, strangers seem to be better than what you’re staring at now.\
It is out of this world.
Are you curious now?
What did she see?
Stand in front of the mirror and count to ten. Smile for a while, counting up to a number you’re comfortable with in your head. Stare at your reflection the whole time, and never abandon the image.
Don’t turn your eyes away even if you notice a figure behind you.
Try not to panic if you hear a low voice mumbling something behind you.
Continue staring at your image even if it starts to frown.
Don’t look away even if that is not your mouth anymore; not with stitches on the side.
Don’t look away...
Don’t look away!
(Even if your hear steps coming your way)
Don’t look that way!
Don't look that way!
(Even if you can feel something cold beside you)
Don’t look that way!
DON’T LOOK
DON’T LOOK
YOU
Just a litte something I've written because of an image I've had in our building's fire exit. That place creeps the heck out of me, but I was able to produce this. *shrug* Still waking up my dormant writing skills, so please forgive.
At least I'm writing, somehow. *happy*