Room 376

Lisa juggled the armload of books she was holding, praying if the weight were more evenly distributed the books would be easier to carry. I hate Wednesdays she thought-- as she continued down the stairs to the Library and Archives department. --Room 376 here I come- she muttered to no one in particular. Three more weeks of this. Three more chances to break my neck on these stairs.

    Her college transcript was high on academics and low on service, the Dean of Academics had informed her with his usual sour expression. So, of course, to beef up for anywhere and anything that an undergraduate could volunteer for, she had not been picky. 

    She now realized she should have been. Picky, that is. Instead, she would spend the next hour running books from Professor Webber's class back down to Library and Archives. This is education? she grumbled aloud. So be it. What a life. I'm not a student. I'm a packhorse. What is this teaching me? she muttered.

      Slightly overweight, she huffed and puffed her way down the stairs. Third trip....--almost done--she thought. That was really her only complaint about St. Marian's College.--Everybody here is so big on service. Volunteer for this. Volunteer for that. Do-do-do.--The whole thing is shit-- she was thinking as she lumbered her way down the stairs, holding the books as best she could. 

       On the last step her ankle inexplicably twisted and she plunged forward head first. The books flew out of her arms, sailing as if they had wings.     

        Lisa gasped and sat up slowly reaching for her ankle. She winced when her fingers made contact with the injury. Her ankle was already beginning to swell. Using her other leg and her hands she pushed herself to her feet. Swearing floridly to herself, she groped for her cell phone. Nothing. It must have tumbled out of her pocket during the fall.

    Great. Just great. She tried taking one step and cried out. Pain shot up her leg radiating from her ankle. "Where is my cell phone?" she yelled aloud. 

     As she searched for her cellphone l, she grabbed the books and placed them on the table. Mostly to get them out of the way.  

Might as well she thought, It will be forever before anyone comes down here. By holding onto the long tables, Lisa was able to hop and bend down to look. No cell phone. 

      As she placed the last book on the table she thought --I will have to crawl up the steps all thirteen of them. But where the hell could my cell phone be? 

       It cannot have just disappeared.This gets worse every minute. I'm not leaving until I find my cellphone. 

        Lisa dropped down to her hands and knees and crawled the entire length of all the tables peering underneath, anxiously. 

        Where could it have gone? Lisa shook her head in puzzlement. She looked under the very last table. No cell phone. Sighing, she turned toward the stairs as her ankle flared back into life, causing a yelp of pain to burst forth from her lips.

    She slid, crawled her way over to the bottom step. Using her hands for leverage she struggled and lifted herself up one step. Quite the arduous task, Lisa thought. She rested for a bit, before she slowly lifted herself up the second step. She glanced behind herself concentrating on not twisting that sore ankle anymore than she had to. She navigated another step. Then another. Then another. Exhausted, she closed her eyes for a few moments, willing herself not to give in to the exhaustion she felt. 

     Crawling halfway up a flight of stairs on your hands and knees with a sore ankle is not the place to fall asleep, she chided herself. Shaking her head in disgust, she continued dragging herself up, one step after another. She stopped on the next step, her arms sore and tired. Just a few minutes more, she thought. Just a bit more. Just a bit farther. 

     She was only five steps away from the top. Can't quit now, she thought. Gritting her teeth against her swollen ankle, she lifted herself up on her aching arms, repeating this action again and again and again, until finally the last step was eye level. She paused for a moment, and laid her head down on the last step. Exhausted. She was at the top, and this nightmare was over with. 

       She lifted her head and was about to put her head back down when, there, right in front of her was her cellphone. With a small cry of triumph she grabbed her cell phone. Bars... bars. She quickly tapped in the emergency code. Breathless, she held the phone to her ear. 

        "What is the nature of your emergency?" asked the impersonal voice on the other end of the phone.

         "I am a student at St Marian's College. I fell down a flight of stairs returning some books to room 376. I think I may have twisted my ankle. Could you please send someone out to help me?"

       There was a long pause. Her cell phone was silent. 

        Then, whoever it was on the other end asked, "Did you say you are a student at St Marian's."

        'Yes," said Lisa impatience showing in her voice. I am a student at St. Marian's College. I fell down the stairs on the way to room 376. I need help." Lisa was visibly trembling now. 

       "I graduated from St. Marian's four years ago. There is no room 376. There has been no new construction. If you call here again I will charge you for making prank phone calls to a 

Police Department. Now, sober up and cut this out. And I mean it." 

The line went silent. Dead air. Stunned, Lisa continued holding her phone to her ear, just a few more seconds. She punched in the emergency number again. It rang and rang. No one answered. 

     In frustration, she started to put her cell phone down, glancing up as she did so. There was no door at the top of the stairs. Nothing Just a blank wall. A blank wall. Lisa began to scream.