A Scene to be Envied /or/ Finding Sanctuary

A very short narrative of a meeting only possible in fiction.

I had arrived at the strip.  All the buildings I walked past now towered over me, each being well over a thousand feet high.  I marveled at the amazing feat of construction they represented.  I felt tired, but I was grateful for the warm night.  Any colder and I would be shivering in my light skirt, especially seeing as I was barefoot.

Remembering that I was still in a dangerous place, I sped up my pace.  I continually tell myself I try to avoid situations that get me into trouble, but it seems as though they spring up around me regardless.  Not wanting to repeat such history in this fragile situation, I tried to stay out of sight and get to my goal as quickly as possible.  To my advantage, the traffic was virtually nonexistent, and only occasionally did I hear a car speeding through the streets at this uncommon hour.  It took me longer than I expected to walk through the city, and seeing as I had started well after the sun set and the sky went dark, I estimated it would only be a few hours before the sky would start to light.

Sparing no extra time to admire the skyscrapers on either side of me, I hurried toward the end of the road.  Another tower, dwarfing the others beside me, presided over the humble street on which I walked.  On top sat a magnificent spire, adding a considerable amount to the building’s already formidable height.  A hint of a smile I might have had earlier on seeing the strip was replaced by a look on my face of both wonder and fear as I moved closer.  From my point of view, this building seemed to scrape against the dark blue dome that was the sky as I walked forward.

Arriving at the front steps, I looked up one last time at the vertical column of steel and glass.  I did not even try to see at which point the tower ended and the sky began.

I looked behind me then, to see if I was being followed.  It was then I noticed how much my feet hurt.  I sat on the stairs and examined the soles of my feet for blisters and cuts.  Although no damage was visible, it only made sense that I would be in pain after walking for miles with no shoes to protect me.  This fact took place among many others in my sea of regrets.

I jumped as a metal clang echoed through the air.  Unable to identify the source, I reminded myself that I needed to leave and did so with haste.  Stealthily climbing the stairs, I approached the large front doors of the tower.  Resigning myself to the fact that they probably would not open for me, I pulled on both handles.  The doors did not move.  I sighed and walked around the building, inspecting the wall for other entrances.  Passing the first corner of the tower I came upon a door with a pane of glass embedded in the middle.  Peering through, I immediately noticed a distant light illuminating an otherwise dark and abandoned hallway.  I tried this door but it was locked as well.  Continuing down the wall, I happened upon a staircase that descended to another entrance.  Reluctantly I walked down the narrow passage to the door.  Upon arriving, I found that the door did not completely rest over the threshold, but rested on a latch that had not clicked shut when the door was last closed.  I pulled on the handle and the heavy door swung open.  Straining against the springing mechanism designed to close the door automatically, I held open the door long enough to walk inside.

I immediately shivered as a cool breeze of air conditioning enveloped me.  Folding my arms tightly around my chest, I let the door slowly swing shut and started walking.  A latch behind me clicked as it should have when the door was last closed.

On either side of me I saw dark doors with obscure labels.  The only light in the corridor came from where I entered, where a small lamp flickered near the door.  The farther I traveled, the harder it became to see, and more than once I bumped into the wall or another door that I didn’t see.

After several more collisions, I ran headlong into a sheet of metal.  I bounced off, mostly unhurt with a small cry of surprise.  I put a hand on my head where it had hit the barrier, grimacing, and inspected the object that I crashed into.  Running my hands along it, I found that it was about as long as my arm span, and taller than I could reach unless I jumped.  In the middle, a seam divided the sheet, leading me to conclude it was actually in two pieces.  I shivered again and felt my arms, realizing they were covered in goose bumps.  I looked back towards the light from the doorway which I came, and found that it shone uninterrupted except for a narrow rectangle around which it no longer reflected.  On closer inspection the rectangle formed a doorway from the hall into a central room in which I now stood.  Turning back to the sheet of metal in front of me, I noticed a small ring to the side on which the light from the lamp down the hall glinted.  I reached out and touched the reflecting ring.

Immediately a loud ding sounded above my head, causing me to jump again.  I felt somewhat ashamed for reacting so much to small noises, but reassured myself that it was understandable given my situation.  Following the bell the two sheets of metal I ran into opened, and a new source of light behind them illuminated what I recognized as an elevator.

Blinking in the sudden brightness, yet thankful for the ability to see more clearly, I stepped inside and turned to the panel of buttons.  Due to the size of the building, the number of buttons leading to floors covered most of an elevator wall.  I jumped and pushed the button for the highest floor, labeled “Observation.”

The doors of the elevator closed, and I sank to my knees as if I had just caught a medium sized sofa in my hands as the elevator quickly accelerated.  A whirring below me increased in volume until it filled my range of hearing, excepting the rushing winds outside the car only a few feet away.  I regained my footing and held on to a conveniently placed rail for support.  Thankfully, the elevator was warmer than the inside cool, and I relaxed.  Just as I was starting to become bored of the journey skyward, the elevator slowed and I felt as though someone had lifted the couch I had caught earlier up off my shoulders and I was still holding on.  The same bell the surprised me earlier went off again and the doors slid open to reveal a dark room.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator the doors behind me closed and the car descended down the shaft back to rest in its previous location.  Desperately missing the light, I stretched my hands out in front of me and felt the wall next to the elevator.  Although it still felt cooler in the dark room compared to the elevator, the cold wasn’t as much of a shock as the cold in the basement.  Proceeding towards the right, I passed another elevator, and then another, and then a door.  I felt for the handle and pulled it.  The door remained immovable.  Feeling around the door, I found the frame extended out and not in, so I pushed on the door and then it swung inward.  The area it opened into was if possible even darker than the previous room.  I let the door swing shut behind me, and as it banged the frame, the sound reverberated off the walls.  I took a few tentative steps forward, and for my all my caution stubbed my toe on a small elevated platform just above the ground.  I hopped on one foot, holding my injured foot in my hands, angry with myself for not being better prepared with shoes.  Releasing my toe I felt around the area where I hurt myself.  There a plane perpendicular to the floor rose up about six inches, and leveled off so it was flat again about eight inches away from me.  Continuing to explore this strange formation, I found that it repeated several times.  Realizing that the dangerous deformation of the floor was actually a flight of stairs, I straightened and hurried upward.

After I ascended the stairs, I felt my way towards a wall, then towards the right.  Upon reaching a corner, I continued up what turned out to be another flight of stairs ending at a door where the lights of the moon and city shined through a heavy glass panel.

I reached forward and squeezed the handle.  A latch clicked as it unlocked, and I pushed the door open.

* * *

I leaned against the highest spire, shifting the weight on my back so I would be more comfortable.  The entire city lay before me, spreading for miles in every direction.  The yellow glow of streetlights wavered slightly through the slight haze of smoke and fog.  No buildings stood higher than the one on which I sat, and no point on my tower save the spire was more out of reach and out of the way.

The night felt warm and dry.  Summer was drawing to a close, but the last weeks of August held on to the heat as if the city itself knew it would not feel it for another year.  Silence rang through through the air as it had for hours.  The lone, unfortunate car running errands in the early hours of the morning was to be seen infrequently at best, hardly breaking the still, thick air with its quiet movement.

I breathed in and out slowly, marveling at the sight I beheld.  I did not mind being alone; on the contrary, I rather enjoyed it.  Company never realized how to appreciate life in the moment, to be silent, to take in what can be from the senses.  My surroundings shower me in experience and I drink what I can as if I had thirst from several weeks without water.  I don’t concentrate on what I think, reminding myself only that I don’t have to do so if I so choose.  I am at liberty to do nothing, to be without action, to be immovable and content without the questioning of my peers.  But only now.  I savored the moment.

A latch clicked behind me and my satisfaction shattered into as many pieces as the silence.  I tensed, considering what my punishment would be if I was caught on the roof by a guard.  The heavy door I had come through earlier opened reluctantly and a young girl about my age walked over the threshold.  Her light, golden brown hair poured over her shoulders, glimmering.  She pushed a lock behind her ear as she looked to the right and left of the doorway.  Tentatively stepping forward, she let go of the door and flinched as it slammed shut behind her.  Although there was little light, my eyes had adjusted to the dark when I was watching the city, and I could see that the girl was wearing a simple white skirt and fitted blue shirt.  She made almost no noise when she walked, which led me to notice her bare feet.

I deducted that the mysterious girl was not there to apprehend me, so I relaxed my shoulders and leaned around the spire further to watch her.  She immediately gasped, looking straight into my eyes for a brief moment before dashing back to the door and yanking it open.

“Stop!  Wait!” I blurted suddenly, not knowing what I intended.  The girl paused and looked at me again.  I looked around awkwardly, trying to think.  I assumed she meant no harm, and I was curious as to how and why she found herself up on the roof of the tallest skyscraper in the city.  That in addition to the fact that she wore no shoes.

The girl stepped away from the door.  Her fingers slid out of the handle and it slammed shut again with a bang.  She yelped and flinched, spinning towards the door too late.  The girl turned around slowly, her cheeks coloring.  She clasped her hands and arms together in front of her and looked up at me expressing the most innocent and embarrassed expression I could imagine.  I couldn’t help but smile slightly at the sight.

“It’s all right,” I said.  I motioned for her to climb up to the ledge underneath the spire.  She hesitated, then slowly walked over to the ledge on which I sat.  It rose well above her head, up to the point where I could only reach it by jumping.  Realizing this, I flattened myself on the concrete and lowered my hand.  The girl grabbed my hand with hers and then to the top of the ledge with her other hand, barely finding purchase on the smooth cement.  She felt surprisingly light, weighing much less than I expected.  I helped her up the rest of the way and she sat down a few feet away, smoothing out her skirt and pulling her hair back behind her head.  I sat down myself, half smiling the way I do when I’m not sure what to say or do in present company.  I stared at my shoes, which was a preposterous thing to do seeing as they were exceptionally uninteresting, then looked back out on the city.  I held my argument that nothing compares to being alone, as very little time could pass before my gaze would eventually wander over to my unexpected guest, who had her hands clasped together again between her knees and bare feet hanging over the edge of her seat.

The fifth time this happened, she looked at me at that exact instant.  My eyes widened, and I suddenly noticed the rich brown coloring of the eyes staring back at me.  Returning to earth, I shook my head and stared at my uninteresting shoes again.  Despite my embarrassment, I turned and glanced at her again.  She was still looking at me, and as we made eye contact once more I noticed a faint trace of a smile on her lips.  I jerked my head away, and looked at the sky.  Tilting my head too far back, I whacked it on the very solid metal spire ascending right behind me.  The air filled with the ringing of the collision.  I didn’t feel the pain until a few moments later, after which I bent forward, rubbing the back of my head with my hand.  I muttered under my breath for a while before I remembered the girl was sitting next to me and stopped, attempting to conserve any remaining pride.  I looked away, regretting my decision to let her stay, wishing I could be alone again.  Alone, with no one to worry about insignificant pains that would pass within moments, alone, with no one to remember the embarrassing moments and recall them at inopportune times.

Wallowing in my misfortune, I grumpily resumed my watch of the city, pretending that the girl no longer existed.  All too quickly my eyes wandered again, and I saw that she had pulled up her legs from the ledge and wrapped her arms around them in a hug, resting her chin on her knees.  She looked as though she was helpless, the whole world opposing her.  As she gazed into the horizon, her brow furrowed and her eyes welled up, watering.  It seemed to me as if all the troubles of the inhabitants of the vast city below us and of the people beyond had fallen on her shoulders, and she alone had to bear it without giving up or showing weakness.

Uncertain of myself, I slid over so I sat next to her and lowered my arm around her shoulders.  She relaxed slightly, turned, and leaned her head on my chest.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Charity,” she replied quietly.

Author's Note

Please read these notes after reading the work itself.


9.5.11
I added another segment from Charity's point of view. I increased the font size for readability as well.

9.3.11
I titled the work before I wrote it, during the time when the only parts of the narrative I knew where that it was going to consist of a boy meeting a girl for the first time on top of a skyscraper overlooking the city. I myself would be happy to be in that scenario, as I enjoy both seeing views by myself without disturbance and imagining the opportunity to meet a girl in a way only possible through literature, as in real life neither of the characters would be able to get on to the roof (or even in the building for that matter) at that time of night, the girl would be wearing shoes, and it would be too creepy for a boy to invite a younger girl to stay with him the way the narrator did in the story. The title ended up being ironic, as envy is quite the opposite of charity. To envy meeting Charity is something I would do, interestingly enough. However, this is largely a pleasant coincidence as I originally meant I would envy being in the scenario when I wrote the title, as I explained before.

This work ended at two pages, or about four times the estimated length. I have no regrets as to this surprise, and feel that the description and emotion poured into the text is well worth the space on my hard drive.

I hope that no student or teacher looks into this story too closely, as it is only a description of how I feel in the moment and the only interesting “devices” or whatnot nonsense English teachers put students up to today are two comparisons I rather enjoyed creating, which are the simultaneous shattering of satisfaction and silence, and the naming of such a humble, innocent, self-conscious young girl Charity. That was a long sentence.

I can think of a dozen scenarios in which the narrator and Charity run off together, but I believe this story should end where it did, the happy moment enjoyed by the comforter and the comforted.

Tell me what you think the genre should be. If you haven't already done so, look at the picture. That is what the narrator sees.

Reviews

[Wandering Violet]

That kept me guessing where it was going, good use of tension. Interesting, and it didn't end as I expected either. I agree that it was better to leave it to the reader's imagination as to what happened next instead of providing a conclusion.

[Tate Morgan]

God this is so long and boring