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Never
and Always
The silent building loomed above them, casting a soft shadow that extended across the street. Darren and Michelle tiptoed up the steps to the door, looked up and down the sidewalk. Darren put his shoulder against the "Condemned" sign on the door and gave a shove. The old door grated on broken hinges, and they anxiously looked around again. "Would you hurry up, please!" Michelle whispered nervously. "Sshh!
I am..." Darren shoved the door again and it shrieked along the floor
as it moved to open a few more inches. "Oh, no! If I decide to haul ass out of here, I don't want to have to fight that thing!" "There's nothing to be afraid of," Darren told her. "Yeah, right," she whispered. "You bring me here and tell me this place is haunted, but there's nothing to be afraid of?" "It's not like that, Michelle." "Man, I don't know what I'm doing here. There aren't any ghosts." Darren turned to her and only a highlight in his eye was visible. "Why don't you ever believe me?" "Ok, maybe there are ghosts," she relented. "But I've never seen one." "Well, you're going to see some tonight." "How do you know it's tonight?" Her whisper echoed off the walls. "I looked up the dates. Come on." He took her hand gently and led her to the stairwell. "When can we use the flashlight?" "On the stairs. There aren't any windows in the stairwell, so no one will know we're in here." "Are the stairs safe? This place is condemned, you know." "I've been here before. It's safe." "When?" "Last year. That's the first time I saw them." "Were you alone then?" She tried to sound casual, just curious. Darren turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Yes, I was alone. I've never brought a girl here. Except you." "I didn't mean..." she said. "It's ok." He took her hand again and they began to climb the stairs. "Darren, did you ever think there could be gang members or a serial killer or something living here?" Her voice shook slightly. "Not here." He sounded very sure. "Why not?" "This place is. . .I don't know--protected. I read that the city tried to tear it down twice in the last ten years and something always happened to prevent it." "Like what?" "Once the heavy equipment kept mysteriously breaking down. Another time some people got together a petition to make this place into a homeless shelter." "So why didn't they?" "I don't know. Something about funding and a zoning dispute. I think it's still in the courts." They were approaching a landing, and Darren stopped. "This is it." Michelle groaned at the thought of another obstinate door, but this one opened easily under Darren's hand. They stepped into a deserted corridor and began walking quietly. Michelle clutched Darren's arm. "This is creepy." "It's ok," he reassured her. He looked at the closed doors on either side of them and stopped. "Right here," he said and sat down on the floor. Michelle dropped to her knees, and sat beside him. "When does it happen?" "Soon. Just wait." His voice was hushed but Michelle detected anticipation of something special to come, something he believed in. He had tried to communicate it to her, but her skepticism found this hard to reconcile. Still, here she was--carried along by his conviction to this very place. She sighed and settled down to wait and see for herself. Along about midnight, when the moonlight made a faint path through the south window and Michelle was dozing off, almost asleep, Darren nudged her. She was instantly awake and as her eyes focused, she sat transfixed by a silent drama being played out in front of her. A woman dressed in a style of some years past walked out through one of the closed doors lining the corridor. She seemed distressed as she approached the place where Darren and Michelle sat. Behind her, a tall man came striding out of the same door, obviously walking after the woman. There was an air of great sadness about him. Michelle gasped to see how handsome he was. She is leaving him. Michelle was certain of this and didn't know how she knew. The man followed after her, and Michelle could see the wall and the doors through his body, through their bodies. The woman turned to face him and she was crying. "Oh, God they're so sad!" Michelle whispered. "Sshh! Watch..." Darren whispered back. The man bent toward the woman as if telling her something, and she slowly stepped forward and embraced him. Then, pulling away, she placed her hand behind his neck, reached up and kissed his forehead. "Oh!" Michelle said. The man stood with his head bowed as though he worshipped this woman, and Michelle's heart bled for him. Then he took her face in both his hands and gazed deep, deep into her eyes. Michelle held her breath. They seemed to stand there together forever, the man cupping her face in his hands and she cradling the back of his head with her hand. Then slowly, slowly the man brought his face closer to hers, still gazing into her eyes. And suddenly the woman was transformed as she lifted her face to meet his. Michelle saw that she really was beautiful with red-gold hair. The two lovers came together and their lips brushed each other in the moonlight. And suddenly the woman was falling, slowly falling away from him. Michelle felt his agony as the man caught her in his arms and lowered her to the floor. She lay there and she was dying. Michelle was on her feet. "Oh, God! What happened to her!" Darren stood up. "I'm not sure. I couldn't find it when I was looking up the story. But they both got killed not long after this." He indicated the drama being re-enacted in front of them. The apparition of the woman was fading, blending with moonlight now. The man knelt helplessly beside her, reaching toward her, and then she was gone. "Oh, God...I can't.....that's so sad!" Michelle burst into tears and began walking away quickly down the corridor. "Michelle!" Darren called after her. As Darren stood frozen, the apparition of the man turned and looked after Michelle, then back at Darren, and nodded his head slightly. "Michelle, wait!" Darren was running down the hallway past the doors of long-vacant apartments. He caught up with her, grabbed her arm. She turned to look at him, tears spilling down her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you cry." He took her face in both his hands and looked into her eyes. "I love you, Michelle." He bent his head and their lips met, tentatively at first, then their kiss became deeper. They held onto each other there in the path of light spilling through the window at the end of the hallway, in front of an old wooden door with only the number 2 still intact. In the splintered wood was the slight impression of a 4 that had once been fastened there. Behind them, the ghost of a man faded into the beam of moonlight and was gone. -END- |
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