It was a blood-curdling, toe-curling, gut-wrenching scream. The sort of scream that seems to go on long after it had actually stopped. In the seconds that followed, the air around us seemed to be still and everything was quiet; like the eerie aftermath of a particularly violent thunderstorm. My mind was racing, but my feet were rooted to the spot. So I could only stand and watch as my brother leapt from the couch and headed for the stairs.
I have always thought my younger brother would be much better than me in an emergency; he seemed the sort of guy who had the right amount of smarts and empathy to instinctively know exactly what to do. And here, unfolding before me, was the clearest possible evidence of this. As he passed me, I noticed a hint of panic flash across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a steely determination. No time for messin’, time was a-pressin’.
Meanwhile, I kept standing there, soaking in a mix of utter uselessness and deep gratitude. Gratitude for a brother who would, if required, go to the very ends of the earth to help someone he loved. Somewhere beyond that gratitude lay a sparkling pool of unconditional love. I wished for nothing else but to play in those waters again.
But, back to the present. Or the past. Whatever this was. I couldn’t be sure. After what seemed like an eternity, the signal from my brain to my feet was finally received. I took one step forward and nearly fell over. I could hear my brother still bounding up the stairs (how long was that staircase?), each step sending little tremors across the floorboards below, like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
Taking my next step was more of an effort than I expected; it was like I had forgotten how to walk, let alone run. It took a few more steps to feel steady, then a few more to hit my stride. Finally, with the blood once again coursing through my veins, I began my own ascent, skipping first one stair with each step, then two, and finally taking four in one go until the summit was scaled.
I was out of breath, but my eyes scanned the floor, seeking some hint of movement. There was none. And then, at the end of corridor: a shadow. I followed it, seemingly on some form of auto-pilot, hoping my fear would somehow guide rather than paralyse me. The shadow disappeared into the room at the end. Her room. Or was it? No, it couldn't be. My heart began to pound again; it felt like this time my feet were going to keep going but my mind was about to blank. I blinked back tears; my mouth went dry. Darkness slowly descended from the ceiling like a sheet.
I remember trying to estimate how close I was to the door. I imagined I was in a 100m race, but the finish line kept moving. Like the horizon, the closer I got the farther away it seemed. What was going on? Where was I? Where was my brother? I tried to call for him, but my voice was still at the bottom of the stairs- all I managed was a half-cough, half-whisper. help. help. sniff. splutter.
And then… that sound. My god, that terrible sound. I had heard it before. But where? It came in short bursts, slicing the air like it was a piece of fruit. The closer I got, the louder it seemed to get, until finally it sounded exactly like that scream I had heard just a short while before. I looked up and I realised I was mere steps from the door. It was swinging gently, not from the wind, but from someone having opened it just seconds ago. The sound, that awful sound; make it stop…
I stopped. My eyes involuntarily closed in anticipation of what lay behind the door, as I stretched my hand into the darkness…
and hit Snooze.
Five more minutes.
I have always thought my younger brother would be much better than me in an emergency; he seemed the sort of guy who had the right amount of smarts and empathy to instinctively know exactly what to do. And here, unfolding before me, was the clearest possible evidence of this. As he passed me, I noticed a hint of panic flash across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a steely determination. No time for messin’, time was a-pressin’.
Meanwhile, I kept standing there, soaking in a mix of utter uselessness and deep gratitude. Gratitude for a brother who would, if required, go to the very ends of the earth to help someone he loved. Somewhere beyond that gratitude lay a sparkling pool of unconditional love. I wished for nothing else but to play in those waters again.
But, back to the present. Or the past. Whatever this was. I couldn’t be sure. After what seemed like an eternity, the signal from my brain to my feet was finally received. I took one step forward and nearly fell over. I could hear my brother still bounding up the stairs (how long was that staircase?), each step sending little tremors across the floorboards below, like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
Taking my next step was more of an effort than I expected; it was like I had forgotten how to walk, let alone run. It took a few more steps to feel steady, then a few more to hit my stride. Finally, with the blood once again coursing through my veins, I began my own ascent, skipping first one stair with each step, then two, and finally taking four in one go until the summit was scaled.
I was out of breath, but my eyes scanned the floor, seeking some hint of movement. There was none. And then, at the end of corridor: a shadow. I followed it, seemingly on some form of auto-pilot, hoping my fear would somehow guide rather than paralyse me. The shadow disappeared into the room at the end. Her room. Or was it? No, it couldn't be. My heart began to pound again; it felt like this time my feet were going to keep going but my mind was about to blank. I blinked back tears; my mouth went dry. Darkness slowly descended from the ceiling like a sheet.
I remember trying to estimate how close I was to the door. I imagined I was in a 100m race, but the finish line kept moving. Like the horizon, the closer I got the farther away it seemed. What was going on? Where was I? Where was my brother? I tried to call for him, but my voice was still at the bottom of the stairs- all I managed was a half-cough, half-whisper. help. help. sniff. splutter.
And then… that sound. My god, that terrible sound. I had heard it before. But where? It came in short bursts, slicing the air like it was a piece of fruit. The closer I got, the louder it seemed to get, until finally it sounded exactly like that scream I had heard just a short while before. I looked up and I realised I was mere steps from the door. It was swinging gently, not from the wind, but from someone having opened it just seconds ago. The sound, that awful sound; make it stop…
I stopped. My eyes involuntarily closed in anticipation of what lay behind the door, as I stretched my hand into the darkness…
and hit Snooze.
Five more minutes.
No comments:
Post a Comment