Persuasion

If I could think of words to say it would be: one to ten. The numbers of the stairs staring at me and the darkness. I had to walk down them unless there was another way. I looked to my left. The peeling paint on the wall hung like dead skin, thin and translucent, reaching it's tentacles out to grab me. It was horrifying, yet I ignored the anxiety rising in my stomach and tried to focus. Today I had to face my fears, the fear of dark unknowns, weird smells, and stairs to a door I can't see. Slowly I stepped, it creaked. My heart started going. Each step was a knife to my throat, an imagination of my death, a murder, or an accidental trip over a loose nail. My bladder felt like it would suffer incontinence tonight, it seemed that a trickle would soon reach my pants. I quickly scampered down all the steps till I was at the bottom. I saw a thin sliver of light, my fingers shook as I reached for the doorknob. "Thud," something rolled down the steps and landed at my feet. I screamed with all the fibers of my lungs till it reached every decibel. It reverberated off the furniture, my scream. The hair on my face prickled and I felt hot. There was no flashlight. The only thing to do was to open the door. I had thoughts. Calmly, I told myself I needed to open the door. It was the only answer even if it was scary to face the unknown. My hand gripped the doorknob and slipped. I panicked but willed my appendages to yank it. The wood banged against the wall and slumped, rickety. Blue light. A lamp in the window. The hall was lit up with a dim streetlight glow. My being slowed down gradually to relax but I was still apprehensive.

I saw that the object at my feet was a cat. He smiled at me.

It was morning and I pulled back the curtains to see the sunrise peeking. I was awake. What an awful dream and cute. The cat was kawaii. The tulips in the garden looked happy by the iron gate and pebble stones.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Oliver asked. We were at breakfast.

"Yes. I think we should drive to the hall to find the missing cat."

"Why would it be in a hall?"

"Because Mrs. Tallaway said it was last seen there."

Then Oliver whispered, "Are you sure the cat is real."

I thought for a bit. I had seen a cat last night. So that was real and not a dream, but I don't remember how I got there.

"Oliver, we should at least try. I'll ask a few folks from school to go with us, maybe some seniors. "

"Alright", Oliver sighed.

"Bye mom", I hollered as we shut the door and ran down the steps to his car. Oliver was my good friend and cousin. We had grown up in the same house since we were little. My Aunt was away at college finishing her nursing school.

I slammed the blue door and sat in the cold seat. My breath was frosty. I zipped up my hoodie. Oliver combed back his hair whilst looking in the rearview mirror. He was two years older than I, eighteen. The lane was empty with only garbage bins near the curb.

School went by fast. I ran to my locker. Paper fell like ornaments from the sky, scattering to the shiny mopped hall. I smiled at the janitor and thanked him for doing an amazing job. A pink neon paper was separate from the rest as I picked them all up and shoved them in the pocket of my binder. It said 'Meet me in the library'.

'Meet me in the library? Who was this? Caution says that you should proceed carefully. I was persuaded by curiosity to move forward.

I closed my locker and sent a quick text to Oliver to meet me in the Library. I was curious but not stupid.

The walk there was the fastest I'd ever done. It was quiet as most had left home for the day. The smell of books greeted me. It was eerie walking down the aisles not looking for books. Each path I took was a dead end. From the comedy section to nature. It was there I stood. Oliver waited near the front, hidden by a display of books studying a book on Latin. He played the part well of an absorbed studious subject.

A curl fell lose from my bun and wisped across my brow. Lilacs and lavender sunbathed in the sunset of evening. I looked at the beautiful sight by the window sill. I stopped breathing for a minute to listen. I had heard something faint. Turning the corner, near the wooden poetry shelves, I saw a whir of orange and blue.

Oliver was closer now, near a different display. I signaled to him with a slight look of surprise. It was a cat. It had blue ears and soft orange fur with a curious kitten face.

Then who sent the note? Certainly, not the cat? This cat had blue ears so this is an unusual tale.

Oliver was right beside me, as he is a skilled stealth technician in sneakers (we made up that term in middle school). We both stared at the cat, mystified. I looked at him, he looked at me. We were dreaming? Poke, poke. Nope. The pokes proved that we were indeed here and there was a cat with blue ears.

"Hello cat, my name is Oliver."

"Hello, I said."

The cat looked amused and shook it's whiskers. He sprawled out on the blue and grey checkered carpet, stretching in the fading sun, in the spotlight of our spectating.

We both crouched down to pet it. Oliver grinned at me and I smiled with my dimple, a wash of sunset on our faces.

It smiled, before prancing off like a ninja. We followed. It was too fast, it vanished. Then I bumped straight into a t-shirt that smelled like old spice.

To be continued, maybe.

My phone rang. I whispered, then rolled my eyes (as if that would do anything). Phones do sound loud in an empty room. I was at my work sneaking around. I had managed to fall asleep under my desk. I don't know how this happened. I have this condition where my body will shut down at the most random times. Thankfully, it has not occurred for years. Perhaps due to the stress of working over-time, this was my body's response to burn out. Here I was, stretching myself out from the impossible scrunched up position I had been in. I had already done arm stretches in slow motion, now I was walking very slowly like a stalker. Since I was here, I had to find some clues. My colleague had been acting suspicious (according to me and no one else). A stack of papers, stapler, blue sticky notes, and a secret compartment in her drawer. Today was a good day for me, she had forgotten to lock it. A notebook. I flipped through the blank pages and found a picture of a cat. There was a key on a different page, taped, and google directions written down. My pocket notebook was in my jacket. I scrawled fast like doctor's handwriting and took the key. I would make a copy at home and return. My grandfather was a locksmith.

I received a strange package in the morning. I had returned the key the previous day and left everything as it was. Was this connected? I had no proof. I felt slightly guilty, however curiosity won in that case. I have always had a curiosity that would kill me. Perhaps, today I will die.

To be continued maybe, times two.