There’s an uprising against us. It’s the main stairway, the anonymous steps that give themselves character when they qUaKe and TreMbLE when one does nothing but step on them. I lose a little bit of hope for my life everytime I walk up the stairs and when the steps jump and shake.
That heartbeat, it quickens whenever I go down the stairs, desPeraTely needing to print my hastily finished literature assignment. Mr. Storer’s class starts in 2 minutes; I need to correctly time my ritual. 30 seconds and I have arrived to the staircase — I send a silent prayer that I do not fall as I send myself flailing and running down the stairs — I don’t hear or feel anything. The prayers have been heard.
I am faster than the speed of lighTninG and the page-number-less assignment is in my hands. My shaky, sweaty hands. Almost there; I forget to wish and I walk up the stairs, feeling a step make the slightest wobble. Another one trembles. I run up two more and they push down. It feels as though I am about to fall through the staircase. Falling to my demise, I have face planted onto the stairs and squashed like a bUgG.
I am nothing more than a slug sliding down right back to where I started, and Storer has already counted my assignment late.
Could you just imagine if Jeff Bezos comes to visit our school? He walks up the stairs, his shiny head sparkling in the sunlight through those glass panes, celebrating a beautiful staircase, seemingly floating in midair. He takes the first step, perhaps taking a sip of coffee, before he falls to his face, his beautiful globe of wondrous ideas no longer shiny and tarnished.
Can’t we sign a petition or something? This is outrageous. Stepping on these steps is like feeling that long overdue Pacific Northwest earthquake has finally come. We need to do something about the staircase. Replace it completely, make people rock climb to the next level or use a pogo stick — anything! Just, please — stop risking my life and my grade again and again.