A cool breeze spiraled through my barley-cracked-open window as my old beater pitter-pattered off. I had just come home from another grueling day at work– all I could think about was throwing whatever delicious meal my mom packed for leftovers hours prior in the microwave and flinging myself into my soft, fluffy couch. I made my way out of the car, easily growing two feet, and began trudging to my apartment from the parking garage. The long, buzzing, fluorescent tube lights barely cast my shadow behind me as my footsteps echoed through the large abyss.
I knew I wasn’t alone.
As I walked closer to the illuminated elevator, I began to hear breathing. I held my breath and stopped my walk to check if it was my shoes squeaking, like always. The breathing continued to echo off the walls. I wanted to run back to my car and flee, but my unlaced shoes glued to the cement floor. The breathing turned into soft giggles. A child’s giggle. The kind they let out when they’re playing hide and seek and the seeker is inching near their hiding spot. No children should be out now, though. It was past midnight on a Tuesday, it was pouring down so hard, and small streams ran down roads and followed along sidewalks. There was no need for anyone to be outside of their home, especially a child. My heart pounded so hard and heavy; my body reverberated along with it, sending millions of shivers down my spine, and my legs, and my arms.
I was paralyzed.
“Wh, Who’s there?” I called out, my voice falling flat out of fear.
The giggles grew louder.
The giggles grew closer. I heard it walking, but couldn’t make out any figures or even begin to think where the laughter was coming from – I was practically blind without my glasses on. I snapped out of the trance I was in, and flew to the elevator door. As I approached it, I realized there were two harmonious giggles floating through the garage; one coming from where I once stood, and another coming from behind the large metal elevator doors.
With a huff of bravery, I quickly thrusted my finger into the dimly lit elevator button while covering my eyes with my other arm. The door slowly parted, the creaking harmonizing with the giggles like a sick lullaby. Before the door was fully open, something clung to my leg, easily placing about 90 pounds of weight onto my foot and ankle. I uncovered my eyes to look down, only to see a smaller, eerily happier version face looking back at me, now laughing so hard, tears swelled up in the corners of his big, bug-like black eyes.
“Griffin!” I yelled, causing the birds sheltering in the garage to fly around and flutter their shiny black feathers. “What are you doing out this late?!” I questioned, flying the small child up to my eye level from his shoulders. My response was of course a small giggle. His carbon copy brother, Liam, came waltzing from behind big fancy cars, grinning like a sly fox. I swooped the boy up and brought them both into the elevator, nudging one to press the button to our floor – they both did. We rode up slowly, silently. They both stood on my opposite side, holding my hand and looking up at me while I looked forward. I was too tired for this and prayed I was in some deep, lucid sleep.
“Did you like our prank?” they both questioned, tugging on my hand so I’d look at them.
“No.” I replied back, still looking forward, and struggling to uncurl my smiling lips. They skipped off the elevator, pulling me along with them. “I’m telling your parents, too.” I snarkily threatened, knowing I was too embarrassed to do so. We reached the door, and I opened it quietly, sending the two boys into their room and falling onto the couch in one swift motion.
I was too drained to do anything else.
