Alessandra Grosso - Crystal Stair

Having always been particularly sensitive, though, even now I could perceive his weakness.

And then I suddenly attacked: with a feint, I smashed the chair on his head. The wood cracked and broke, leaving only two of its legs in my hands. Deeply distraught, I used them to angrily spear the monster’s chest and neck.

The hideous, burnt figure lay now on the ground; I guessed I could try to burn him to ashes once and for all. My attempt would certainly slow him down: he was terrified of fire, which would finally cleanse his envy of beauty and innocence. It was the only thing he had nurtured in a life of manipulative, psychopathic tendencies.

Yet, although I was practically certain of his obsessive fear, I couldn’t feel any pity for him; I had to defend myself first, and neutralise him in any way.

In his life, knowing that envy and resentment were not socially acceptable, he had disguised them as charm and intellectualism, but his thoughts had always been dark and malicious. Hunger is said to be sharper than a sword: I believe envy is even sharper, and throughout history it has caused discord, wars, and endless mourning.

I was then fortunate enough to find a lighter on the ground; it was surprisingly the one from my youth, which I called ‘the Zippo of my sweet sixteen’ – when I smoked secretly from time to time. I moved quickly, threw the burning Zippo at him and, once found the key, I took it and ran toward the staircase.

Fifty-five steps. I was young, and I flew up the stair. My knee hurt but I endured the pain: every step meant life, so I counted each one over and over again.

Once on top, I finally bypassed the banister and quickly handed the key to my companions – some sought the light, others wanted to pursue the abyss in the opposite direction.

The lock clicked open, but I could feel the monster starting to approach after a brief pause: he was trying to retrace his steps. We needed to leave that place and run toward the light, the same I had always sought.

The elaborate, white-painted gate in front of me was the last hindrance, but it also reminded me of purity, since its grating was sturdy and thick, and protected me as the light did, so that the monster would stay away.

But what could this protective aura ever be? Mere light?

And what was this light? God Himself? Or Lucifer, as in ‘light-bringer’?

Questions, questions... The answers were elusive.

The monster was furious, cursing in his daunting, throaty voice. The gate in fact had been closed and locked again, and everyone had escaped; the key was left for whoever chose to challenge him.

I didn’t think there was anything else to do, so I ventured further, to a dark and gloomy church. Attempting to unravel its mystery, I found myself suddenly alone in the pitch dark of that dusty, crumbling place. I proceeded along the hall that probably constituted the right aisle and found a curious kneeling-stool at the foot of a statue.

How bizarre , I thought. What will it ever...

It was completely covered in blood.

A shiver; then a voice.

“There does not exist one and only one Death!”

What? Won’t death actually be the end of everything? Won’t we slowly vanish like smoke?

Will we go back or move forwards in time? To a recent or remote past, or a parallel dimension altogether?

__________

I realised to be already on the outside of the mysterious church, wandering among ferns. Majestic chain ferns, with shiny leaves that smelt of wildness and reminded me of my childhood country house by the lake.

The old house was now within reach, it seemed, but I was too curious to stop here; I longed to cross that green expanse, in the inquisitive attitude of early youth. My candour actually demanded: “explore!”, my wisdom: “think!”, my heart: “feel!”. So I went on, following my audacious nature.

And then a scene from my past suddenly occurred: a fierce clash between tyrannosaurs.

I fled – although I can attest that, before running away, I was offered a close-up view of the sharp teeth of the two animals – and noticed their stance changing from confrontational to outright offensive. With their colossal muscle-bound bodies they clashed, destroying everything in their wake. They uprooted trees and trampled on my beloved ferns, in the typical fight of the mating period.

I was in such a rush that I tripped over several stones tumbling on my path. The commotion drew the attention of the beasts that, immediately alert, turned their heads and went on the hunt.

They could perceive everything, from my smell to my fear, as many wild animals do.

I dashed away in despair, my breathing growing heavy. My spleen hurt, under strain, but I couldn’t afford to stop now: there had to be a way out, somewhere. And sometimes it is even more frightening than what you are fleeing from.

The only opening turned out to be a dark alley that progressed into a cracked tunnel, running within a natural cavity.

It was time to confront my claustrophobia. With a last-gasp effort I squeezed into it. Outside, the massive beasts roared, enraged, since they could no longer see their prey.

I crawled for a long time – the air stale, smelly and unpleasant to breathe. I also had a terrible fear of spiders and mice, and had always loathed both. In particular, mice terrified me since – as a child – I had once entered our hen house and discovered an enormous brown rat stealing eggs from a nest. But I was a little girl then; now, however, I was a woman and it was time to fight for life.

Fight to survive, or flee if the enemy is bigger than you: it was the process underlying human survival. It had always been, and I had to endure it – for myself, for the survival of the human species, for all mankind even.

Society had never been foremost in my mind. Prior to this, I used to be socially inept; an intractable, introverted person, invariably in dark clothes and rather depressed, with even suicidal thoughts. It was now time to overcome my emotional turmoil, though.

In the meantime, I was still crawling; scratching my arms and legs as I struggled to move forwards.

__________

It was night when I re-emerged, an eerie, nearly moonless night; the sky occasionally ominous in its murkiness, and the clouds easily compared to big felines in terms of strength and colours.

I could still see a tyrannosaur wandering before my very eyes, as I observed it from a hidden natural terrace.

I climbed down only at daylight, feeling stronger, ready to explore and understand the true nature of things; my mind was open to all possibilities: discovering new creatures, interpreting odd dreams.

Dreams had always been everything to me; they were the realisation of all my desires, the perception of events before they occurred. On one memorable occasion, it had been the awareness that my plea for help would be ignored – by a beloved friend who had never understood me as a human being.

My dreams had predicted this betrayal, but I had ignored them in my stubbornness to go on with my life. I had slammed the door to my naturally sensitive inner voice.

The first time I had sensed the presence of this voice I was only a child; only recently had I truly become aware of it, only now that I was escaping and fighting monsters.

I started walking across an ascending valley. It was autumn, with red oak leaves everywhere, falling from the trees, and in the air smells of freshly fallen rain, wild moss.

In my close proximity a secluded spot came into view; I could finally light a fire to warm up. Fortunately I still had a reserve of dried meat in my bag. I built the fire and comfortably enjoyed my camping; then I lay down to assess the night.

It seemed to last forever; I dreamt of crossing the seas on clunky sailing boats.