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The Spiral Staircase By: Amir, 5th grade
Peering out the window, I felt as gloomy and solemn as the rolling hills staring back at me at that very moment. The house that I was born in, and my precious room that I lived in until the moment when the back door of the moving van was closed, was being left to the Halves’, who, I hoped would take good care of the house. Judging by the greedy and destructive look in their sons’ eyes though, I knew that soon the mustard yellow walls that were pristine and tidy would be no more than a mere memory. Our car (which was a dark emerald), hit a bump in the road as we turned onto exit 341, of the West Virginia Turnpike, where our new house was. The roads were unlike the roads in Kentucky, I thought, as the car halted in sight of a red light. As we headed for Charleston, anger flooded though me. Papa, who was the driver of our green car, turned the radio’s volume higher so he could hear the weather for the week. While the weatherman droned on about an upcoming earthquake, the city of Charleston flew by our very eyes and finally the car made a sharp left turn on Grant Circle. I grasped for some of my dearest possessions as they slid to the left and twirled to the car floor. As I did this I could see white houses line Grant Circle. Seven hundred and eighty-nine Grant Circle, one mailbox read. I briefly wondered what our address and phone number would be. Yvonne, my younger sister, was sitting in the backseat making her paper doll do some form of a curtsey when the car halted in front of 795 Grant Circle. The house was made of white brick like all the other houses were. A teal door had a brass inscription that read “795.” The roof was also teal, and the shutters were a light ebony. All area between the second floor balcony and the door was covered by a pale blue and white striped awning. Yvonne and I grabbed our bags and rushed out into the chilly afternoon fall air. Mama, knowing how much we ached to explore the house, gave me the key and without further ado I unlocked the teal door and we went inside. We dropped our bags by the Welcome mat, and glanced in wonder at the grand hall. A stained glass chandelier with the complex design of a mermaid sitting on a rock looked down at us. Delicate Persian carpets covered every inch of the floor and Gothic paintings danced upon the walls. Best of all, a replica of Michelangelo’s painting on the Sistine Chapel ceiling in Italy dominated the hundred ninety-seven meter high ceiling of our new home. “It’s like a fairy tale, Christopher!” Yvonne exclaimed. “I know,” I replied, shocked. “I want to see my room!” Yvonne demanded suddenly, pulling my arm. “All…” I stopped. The door to the basement stairs was open and it had been closed when we gazed at the grand hall. “Y-Yvonne…” I stuttered, my eyes wide with fear as I grasped for the key in my pocket so I could rush outside. But, it was no longer there.
Chapter 2
“Let me see!” Yvonne stepped in front of me and witnessed the open basement door. After a few moments of peering at it, Yvonne spun around to face me. “You’re not scared are you?” she asked, pulling out her pocket mirror where words danced around the frame, questioning, ‘are you the fairest of them all?’ and looking at her earrings made of sterling silver. “No!” I lied, searching my pockets for the key. “Well then, let’s go explore!” Yvonne said pulling me toward the basement door. At that moment, I wished I could jump into a Gothic painting and disappear. As Yvonne dragged me very rapidly into the open basement door I briefly wondered who caused this mysterious event. Was it the squirrels, which possibly lived in the attic? Was it the wind, which had slipped in from an open window and made the door open on its creaky hinges? Or was it what I feared it was: a phantom such as… I slipped and fell down half the flight of stairs. As I concentrated on my ankle injury, I glared with an accusatory look in my eyes at Yvonne. “Christopher Engle Daniel, “Yvonne harshly cooed, wagging her finger, I told you to step down but you were in your own small world!” She giggled slightly, to embarrass me. Standing up, I turned a deep crimson and continued to walk briskly down the steps. When I reached the fifteenth step I had the strangest revelation. I felt as if the stairs would continue forever, and I was drowsy. I soon got the feeling life had no purpose and suddenly my feet landed on the basement landing. Feeling around for the light switch I suddenly realized there was none. I HEARD A FAINT VOICE. My instincts told me to turn around. A creature with octopus like face, small fins like a fish, and with a smile like a child who has overeaten was standing over Yvonne and me. “Welcome to the Undarwarld!” He croaked in a gravelly voice with a thick accent, “I am Xenuphoyluis Cockroach, of the planet of Qwerqsald.” “N-nice to meet y-you, Sir Xenuphoyluis Cockroach, of the planet of Qwerqsald, we love your presence.” Yvonne and I stammered in unison. “Nice to meet you too!” Xenuphoyluis Cockroach replied and shook our outstretched hands with his finlike arms, “My goal is to destroy the Undarwarld.” As he set off in a westward direction we never wondered if we had just met the greedy tyrant that would destroy and change our lives forever.
Chapter 3
As Xenuphoyluis Cockroach glided off to the left, a shimmery light met my eyes and something grabbed Yvonne’s throat. Raspy voices filled the basement (or Underworld, as Xenuphoyluis called it) and before I could blink another creature grasped for my throat. And then I saw what it was. A ghost, shimmery white, with blood sunken eyes and a bony hand was holding my throat so tight I might suffocate. “Run!” I cried to Yvonne and I plunged for the fifteenth step but it was no longer there just like the key and the open basement door… And finally I was thrown down on the floor. Looking me in the eye, the ghosts inquired: “Poor little children, tricked into working for Xenuphoyluis Cockroach, for no matter what the truth is you must be terminated immediately as those are the laws!” the ghost continued, “You have three ways to die, be thrown into a pit, be nailed to a board as you are deprived of light and air, or drink poison. “None!” We said in unison. “Then I’ll choose for you,” the ghost said, taking a bottle of poison out of her apron that she currently wore and putting it to my throat.
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