The Dark Stair

The house on Cedar Street stood quiet, its windows filled with the soft, golden light of afternoon, and the sound of leaves rustling outside was like a gentle hum in the background, but there was always something faintly strange about the way the shadows fell on the stairs, as if they were waiting for someone to come down. Lily sat on the bottom step, her blonde hair tied up in a loose ponytail, and her fingers tracing the pattern on the carpet.

It was on this particular afternoon that the darkness at the top of the stairs began to feel like a trouble, a small, ordinary trouble that gave Lily a feeling of frustration, like a knot she couldn't untie. She had been playing in her room all morning, but now she wanted to go downstairs and get a snack, but the darkness at the top of the stairs seemed to be in the way. Her mother was sitting on a low stool in the hallway, watching her, and after a while, she said, "You look like you're feeling a little stuck, aren't you?"

Lily nodded, and her mother said, "I can see that," but she didn't try to fix it, instead, she held out a small flashlight and said, "Here, why don't you take this with you?" Lily took the flashlight and began to make her way up the stairs, the light casting a warm glow on the steps, and as she climbed, the darkness didn't seem so bad.

When she came back down, the trouble was behind her, and the sound of the leaves outside seemed quieter, warmer, like a gentle lullaby. The shadows on the stairs still fell in their strange, waiting way, but now they seemed like a part of the house, a part of her. From that day on, Lily went up and down the stairs without worrying about the darkness, and she'd often sit on the bottom step, listening to the leaves, and feeling the soft, golden light of the windows on her face.