I’ll never know, and since I can’t look past the walls, I can’t even make a proper guess. The doors are open, but I dare not walk any further, don’t want to cross the forgotten crime scene, or whatever happened up there. Every now and then, the light flickers rapidly, casting dark shadows. I wish I couldn’t see. My legs begin to sleep, but I dare not walk away, both appalled and attracted to this place. Between fear and curiosity, I’m trapped in this little corner. This little corner was the only clean spot, the only safe spot, or at least it appeared to be. As by some miracle, or by design, this corner stayed untouched. Is it because of coincidence or something else? The longer I think about it, the more I start to wonder.
Maybe someone sat here, in this exact same spot as I do now, when “it” happened. Maybe that person –or was it an object?- was “it”, maybe she exploded or something. She. I don’t know why, but something tells me “it” had to do with a she. A little girl, or maybe a young woman. You know most ghost stories have a little girl or a woman as subject? No idea why that’s the way it is, but somehow it sounds right. No not right, just appropriate for this place.
I thought it would be cold. Although summer is coming I thought it would be cold. Don’t they say almost every haunted place is colder than other places? Maybe I’m just imagining things, I don’t even know whether this place is haunted or not. Chances are “it” was just an accident, someone spilling his or her coffee, or some kids with water guns aiming at invisible things on the wall. Yes, it must be something innocent. But why can’t I believe that? Still, why did they take the effort of erasing that area underneath the number one? Something’s not right here, but what? Those spatters and stains must have something to do with it. What else happened here, causing people to shut the entire place down?