Creative Writing

I fell down the stairs once. When I say fell, I mean a legitimate tumble down the stairs, not tripping or slight fumbles in this scenario. I was 21 and dumb. I walked out of my room and didn't pay attention to where I was going, I knew the stairs so well, or at least that's what I thought.

My mother had just finished lifting some light weights in her room and had placed them in the corner of the stairs on the way down. When I think about what happened that day I like to imagine that my mother was planning to grab them but had instead forgotten them and went downstairs to watch television. The less logical part of my brain tries to convince me that they were strategically placed there as a part of the grand scheme of my early demise.

I digress, so I walked out of my room and instead of walking towards the center of the stairs I cut things a little too close and walked along the left edge near the rail. I stepped right on top of the weights and the rest? Well the rest is as follows...

I slid down the first half of the stairs on the heels of my feet hoping and praying that the wall would stop me and I wouldn't go to the right down the other half of the stairs. Good news for the story, the wall didn't stop me, in fact it propelled me down the other half of the stairs. When I finally landed on solid ground after what felt like hours of falling my mother was there waiting for me asking me repeatedly if I was alright.


I answered. "Yes. I'm alright."