A dark place

it receives little light even when the sun is at it's highest.
Moulded papers litter the floor
dating back to times long forgotten.
A suitcase
broken and bent lays open at the foot of its stairs
and the face of a cracked doll lays along side.

As you carefully place a foot on the first of its stone steps
you can't help a foreboding feeling take over you
and a sharp shiver to nudge its way up your spine.
Although your conscience mind tells you that you're alone here
you do not feel alone.
The gentle whistle in the trees
stripped of any visible life only add to this unease.

As your feet finally touch the damp floor,
you try your best to move without a sound
tiptoeing around the window pain
that casts broken shards of glass in every direction.
And yet, the light crackling sound the leaves make underfoot
sound more like the roar of a lion
ringing throughout your ears.

You begin to move faster
trying your best to ignore the bodiless shadows that creep along the walls.
The faces they pull
and the words that they whisper are too horrifying to even contemplate.

The light.
An escape from this desolate place is mere steps away.
But just as you think it's finally all over
your left foot snags on a tree root and you fall face first into the mud.
The smell of mould and grime hits you like a slap in the face.
But the will that should be present
to get up again
simply isn't there.

Perhaps someone will find you.

Perhaps something will.