listened a bit more. A creaking sound from the neighbor’s
swing set was the only sound on the air. The smell was of
the cold, nothing more. After a minute or so, I released my
grip on the silver crucifix from inside my pocket and
rapped on the door loudly in succession.
A maid opened the door, bowed, and stepped back
so I could enter. As I did, a man in black dress pants and a
maroon velvet jacket was walking down an elegant winding
staircase with wrought-iron details. He blended into the
night sky that shone through the six thin arch windows
behind him. His black hair turned brown as he descended
the stairs, coming into the bright light of the chandelier
overhead. He stopped near the bottom and stared at me.
His eyes were cold, defeated, like the eyes of a man who
just lost everything. He stood there, like a statue on display
and did not move. I could feel the sad song that his heart
sang as he observed me.
He finally turned and the maid gestured me to
follow. I walked up the gleaming marble staircase and, step
by step, left the light for darkness. The closer to the
second floor I climbed, the darker the view became.
Coldness overtook me, and a shiver ran down my spine as
the light I loved so much bled into night.
The second floor was drenched in darkness, the
hall devoid of lights. I wondered how anyone would
navigate the hall without any illumination, but the man had
no trouble walking forward with only himself as a guide. I
eyed him deliberately, watching for signals and gestures
that would indicate the way. We passed several rooms, but
he did not pause; rather, he continued until we arrived at
the last room on the left.
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