We finally touched, and the instant our hands met, I was transported to another time, but still in a stairwell. The stairwell was filled with a thick, putrid smoke. I tried to move up a few more steps, but then ran into a wall. The stairs went no further. It was a plaster wall that ran to the ceiling. A dead end. All of a sudden I heard frantic screaming. My sinuses burned, and the smoke was irritating my throat. I began coughing, actually choking on the polluted thick grey air. I heard the screaming again, and pounding, and then the sound of a younger person yelling, "Momma! Momma! Please Momma, I can't open the door. Momma!" I held up the lantern and descended a few steps. The smoke was thick, and it was extremely warm making it very difficult to breathe. I saw a figure, a young girl, maybe around 12 years old. She was at the bottom of the stairs, frantically pounding on the door, screaming for help. I heard another voice in the distance, "Honey, I am trying! I'm trying to get to you!" I rushed down the remaining stairs, and just like that she was gone. I grabbed the door knob, but it wouldn't turn. I threw myself into the door, but it didn't budge. Where was the opening I came through? There was no door here. Where was the opening? I held up the lantern, turned to look up the stairs, and there she was. The smoke was gone, the air had cleared, but there in the midst of the stairwell, the face, the face of a young girl. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and they were looking right at me. Who are you, I asked. She responded, "You heard our cry for help. You are the first living soul that heard our cry for help. You alone can help us." I immediately asked her what she meant. I don't understand, I said. "There was a terrible fire. I became trapped in here, and I died here in this stairway 65 years ago. I heard Momma screaming. She tried desperately to get to me, but could not. The door was blocked and she could not open it. My spirit has been trapped here in time since then. I had argued with Momma because she would not allow me to go to a friends house. I went up into the attic to hide for several hours. That is when the fire broke out. I became trapped, and because we had argued, Momma has been blaming herself since then for my death. She believes that if we would not have had the argument, I would still be alive. I know what she has been thinking for the past 65 years. You see, Momma is still alive...
cool shot.