Striking Blue

Bad Idea

So I waited, unable to keep my nightmares away the moment I closed my eyes. I waited, wide awake, sitting stiffly, praying to every god I knew of, for my parents' early return.

But seconds turned into minutes and just as quickly, half an hour passed. I was still sitting still, my back cold against the wall and my fingertips digging into the floor.

Suddenly, there was a noise...from above. Strange. If their daughter suicided, they should be down, where my parents were, right? I shook the uncomfortable thoughts away.

But the sound came again. It was of something being dragged across the floor. Maybe a chair or a carpet or something heavy. Again. It came again. My pulse quickened. This time the noise was right above where I was sitting, inches from the front door. The door. Should I go check upstairs? No. No need to be brave, girl! You'll get yourself killed.

Being brave, I can control. But curiosity? I don't have a whole lot of control over that. I stood up. This is a bad idea. I took a deep breath. My bare feet shivered at a thought, then another. None of them were pleasant. The sound. Again. I could feel my throat close up.

Wait. The girl. Where's her body? I walked to our balcony and threw its doors open. As I bent over, I saw her. She was fifteen, just as much as me. Her dark hair spread across the stone ground. A halo of blood ringed her peace-stricken lifeless face. Her arms open as if to God. Her eyes, I shuddered. I recoiled as I saw her parents and her sister bent beside her maddened with despair. Another sound.

Who could it be? Her parents were down with her sister. No one else in their family. Then who was in their house? In one swift motion, I gathered all the courage I own, grabbed my house keys and shut the door behind me. I exhaled. Bad idea.

My steps felt heavy and reluctant. The corridor was dead, the dust shone silver in the moonlight. I turned to face the elevator, just as its display blinked off. The power of our building must have gone down.

I spun on my heel to face the staircase. Even the moonlight restrained from reaching there. Okay. I placed my steps lightly against the cement as my hands felt for the railings in pure darkness. Just one floor. Come on. My heartbeat louder than my footsteps and sleep far from being, I kept climbing and soon I could see moonlight again. 

Now the sounds were louder. Dragging sounds, of something heavy, maybe scratching the tiles. I had forgotten how to breathe long ago.

I could see the landing of the next floor, my eyes finally adjusted to the lack of light. A maximum of two or three more steps. Suddenly, I tripped.