You climb the stone staircase with a sense of composure that you never knew you had. Your breathing is even; you have no perception of how long you have been climbing. Your eyes do not strain; you are certain that the light has dimmed over the duration of your ascent. You reach a landing.

You are drawn to a narrow, two-foot-tall window. It rests at your exact eye level. You note that it, unlike the walls, is made of stone bricks. You find this odd, as you are certain that the walls of the staircase were also stone brick.

Time passes.

You have been standing at the window for quite some time. You are not certain for how long. You notice that your surroundings have quieted. Silence. You lack a heartbeat. You turn away from the window and continue up the wooden staircase.

Light is no longer bothersome. You are still able to see, even in the pitch black darkness that has enveloped you. The smell of tarnished metal wafts down to meet you. It is comforting. You are lonely. The movement of your legs as you climb has become mechanical and automatic. You no longer notice it.

Your cat meows from somewhere below you.

Her name does not come to mind. You recall that as a child you had wished for a cat. Your parents had not allowed it. You do not have a cat.

Her name is Mina.

Time passes.

The cries of your cat shift to your left. You do not stop to listen. You do not stop. You are not tired. The sound of your cat has become a memory alone. It twists in your mind. Her cries no longer sound cat-like. You are uncertain of what could make such a noise.

You continue up the metal staircase.

A styrofoam door blocks your path. You march in place before fighting with your legs until they stop. You press a fingertip into the door. It does not move. You wonder whether the door exists within your plane of reality. You try once more to push on the wooden door. It swings open with a harrowing creak.

You do not move as you step inside.

The lighting of the room is no different from that of the staircase. You know this. You cannot see the white cat that sits in front of you. You do not know there is a white cat sitting in front of you.

You crouch to pat its head.

Time passes.

The cat states that you are a human being. You know that the cat is lying. You are human. You know you are human. The cat claims it is telling a lie. You know that the cat is lying.

Her name is Anim.

You are drawn to a squat, two-foot wide window. It rests at your exact eye level. You note that it, like the walls, is made of absolute darkness. You find this comforting, as the walls are made of stone bricks. You are aware that time has passed, although you do not care how long it has been.

You continue down the stone staircase.

You know you are human.

You know the cat is lying.

A wooden door blocks your path. You stop a foot away from it before you slam your shoulder into it. It crumbles, and you step over the styrofoam.

You have made it outside.

It is bright, and you can see. You walk a few steps, turn back to look at the stone tower, and reflect on your experience. Your cat, Mina, waits for you.

Mina takes you to a nearby cafe. You forget about the tower. You order two cups of tea, pay, and take them to a seat by the window. Mina sits down across from you.

Time passes.

You and the stranger sitting across from you have not spoken. You assume they are examining you from behind the reflective lenses of their round glasses. You take note of their black hair. Their red lips. They stand, and you do too. You recall that you had ordered tea. You recall that you do not have a cat.

Interis leaves.

You climb the stone staircase with a sense of composure that you never knew you had.

A/N: Please feel free to leave a like and comment ♥