"They say writing helps to express emotions," Lewis writes in that same old tattered leather notebook he always kept under his bed. "But does it? I don't think so. Nor do I feel like this ever helps, but I suppose it's better than listening to my voice. God knows I shouldn't listen to my voice, right?"
The splattered ink from the dreary black pen scribbles along the old pages as Lewis writes his thoughts down onto the pages, only his slow, ragged breaths broke the silence within the house.
However, a faint static sound buzzed within his ear. Before he even had time to react, the computer flashed white, the screen lighting up with a photo of a pill bottle being held by a figure of purple.
But just as Lewis stands up to investigate the ominous glow of the screen and the image within, the screen dies down, flickering to a still blackness that feels somehow eerie within the now dark bedroom.
"That can't have been real," Lewis mutters to himself before hearing that familiar click of the door lock signalling his parents were home from their trip. "Oh, good…it's been a while. I was getting worried about them," Lewis mutters to himself before walking barefoot on the soft carpet of his room towards his bedroom door, opening it with a sharp pull and rushing down the stairs.
Yet something felt wrong…the stairs seemed to stretch downwards, the world spinning and buzzing, the light that was once at the bottom of the stairs signalling the hallway below fizzling out into an endless void. Only the endless flight of stairs remains within the haze but just as Lewis was about to pause and question what was going on, the stairs shifted and…he's back where he started…on the stairs as if nothing had happened.
As if that endless stairway never existed.
"Can you just stop?" Lewis calls out to…nobody special…but even so…a small nagging voice shouts out, a distorted and broken voice that seems to call out from all around him "Why? Are you scared?" the voice shouted from all around.
"Please stop" Lewis whispered, his eyes darting around the staircase as the lights flickered a sickly grey, the room like the exact opposite of what it had been, where the endless staircase constricted and groaned under an infinite pressure, constricting and closing in around him until he smelt a familiar scent of strawberries and lavender…his mother's perfume.
"Lewis!" Her voice grounded him, the chaotic mess of closing yet infinite stairs disappearing back to their original form of a normal staircase as Rose stood at the bottom of the staircase in a rose red strapless dress with a worried look inside her diamond blue eyes. "Are you okay, honey?" Those four simple words hit Lewis harder than he could ever admit…of course he wasn't okay…when was he ever okay? After…everything…that happened to him.
"Yeah, I'm okay, Mom. Just…thinking" Lewis replied, offering a weak and hesitant smile, glancing away almost shyly only to get shot down by Rose instantly, her brown hair whipped around like a leaf in the wind as she shook her head in response. "I know when you're lying to me, honey" which was immediately followed up with, "Did you…take your pills?"
"Not yet, Mom" was the simple reply from Lewis, sounding almost tired but thankful for her reminder. "Thanks," he said, looking over to her with a small hopeful smile.