"What is this..?" I stepped down the steps into the basement, surprisingly cold air greeting me. My father had always kept the basement door locked, and I had finally found where he had left it. Inside the basement was certainly not what I expected, though. I stepped into the room expecting an unkempt room, filled with boxes for storage.
The walls were painted white, the floor wood, recently cleaned. Against the wall were three cardboard targets, shaped like the upper half of a man, with a red target on its head. Targets to shoot, obviously. I didn't have much time to explore, though. "Joseph!" A voice boomed from upstairs. It was my father's. I sighed, and reluctantly climbed the steps to meet my father's angry face. "What were you doing there? What did you see? I've told you countless times not to go down there!"
"I know, but— what could be so important that you can't show you own eighteen year old son?" I retorted, looking down at my feet and stuffing my hands in my jean pockets.
My father sighed, his shoulders heaving. "Okay.. I'll show you. C'mon, Joseph." He walked past me down the steps, stopping at the bottom of the stairwell to turn in my direction, and wave me over. "You wanted to see it, didn't you?"
Nodding my head, I followed him down the steps, glancing around the room. I glanced around the room, taking mental notes of my new surroundings, which seemed to be abandoned for quite a while, with dust gathering on the top of old boxes and desks, and cobwebs in the corners of the room. Ugh, I would hate to see the spider who made them.
