I always hated the sound that door made. Whether you closed it fast or slow, the sound of the creak was always the same. A signal, warning you not to proceed.
But you weren’t scared, you’ve done this many times before, to where you can’t remember, and the hand holding yours, is a hand you’ve held before.
And the cement steps that led to the darkness, felt warm and so welcoming. It felt a little bit like coming home. That’s all I remember.
It is here I woke up The silence awoke me, My feet were wet and cold, my hand no longer recognized the hand that I hold. As if it felt that moment I realized I’m in danger, The hand would disappear, and I was left alone.
I was frozen. I started to scream but nothing came out. I shook from my fear and dashed towards the stairs, as if in danger. I always expected something to pull me back. The door felt so far.