Alone in Paris

Chapter Two: Hunched Against the Rain

Croissant in hand, I gallop up the iron staircase to the apartment complex. I take a giant bite out of the pastry, nearly eating half of it as I shut the door behind me. I turn to walk into the entranceway when I suddenly hear a loud creak.

I freeze with half a croissant stuffed in my face.

Creak! Creak! Creak!

The sound is steady, measured like footsteps. My heart drops in my chest, before seeming to leap back up to its rightful place and picking up speed. I jump out of sight as shadows begin to cast at the end of the staircase. I keep my back pressed against the wall behind the door that leads to the entrance, listening carefully but unable to hear anything but my own frantically beating heart.

"Well, what do you think?" a male voice asks, his voice echoing throughout the building, the question louder than my own heart.

"I don't think there's any use for it," another man answers. "The stairs are close to collapsing, and there's a chance the floor could cave. The building is far from good condition. We're better off tearing it down."

My breath hitches in my throat. Tear it down? They can't tear it down! This is my home! Where would I go?

"I think this place is cool," says another voice—a younger voice.

"Quiet, Nathan, the men are talking," says one of the older voices.

"Why don't we check out one of the other rooms?" the other man suggests. I stay smooshed between the wall and the door as I listen to their creaky steps. Their footsteps grow faint as they walk down one of the building's many hallways on the first floor. I wait, listening until I'm sure no one is in the room. I step away from the wall, peeking around the door. The entranceway is empty.

I scurry into the entranceway, trying to be as silent as a mouse. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, debating. I'm strung stiff with panic as I stand frozen, my feet wanting to go in different directions. They might go upstairs again, but I can't stay downstairs—

My thoughts are interrupted by a pair of footsteps as they make their way from down the hall. With my heart spiraling in my chest, I quickly duck behind the staircase. I crouch behind the stairs and watch through the gaps between the steps as blue jean legs come into view.

My breathing sounds loud as I watch from my hiding place. I try to shallow my breathing, but my heart is pounding, and it feels like I'm suffocating. Two more pairs of legs appear, both wearing khakis. "That last apartment was a disaster," comments one of the khaki-wearing men.

"I think you're right, this place is better off as rubble," says the other khaki man. "It looks like it could collapse any minute."

"I think it's time to get out of here then," comments the other with a chuckle. The khakis start to walk away, but the blue jeans stay put.

"Can I stay here for a while?" the younger voice asks, making me stiffen. I pull at my hair as I anticipate the answer. No. Say no, I beg.

"No, it's too dangerous. I don't want you staying here by yourself," one of the men answers. The khakis turn to head for the front door. I'm relieved to have moved to a new hiding place as I watch them. Blue jeans hesitates for a minute before following the men out. I sigh, slumping against the wall behind the staircase once I hear the door close.

Water.

I can't breathe.

I'm surrounded by water. I can't swim. There's no way out. I bang against the hard glass. It doesn't budge. My lungs are desperate for air. I have to get out. I have to break free!