The Iron Tower

The wooden floor panels gave a high pitched squeak as I carefully tip-toed down the spiral staircase. I had been in the same small room for days and couldn't resist the urge to look for an exit, now that somehow the door of that spartanic room had magically opened over night. I had watched the snowflakes, as they slowly moved behind the iron fences of my window, downwards, into the pale mist that ascended from the ground. One level down the wooden staircase I found a room. In the room, there was a fenced window facing north, a small bed and on the table on the right hand side, a creased copy of the old testament. It was a mirrored version of the room I had come from but I was unable to tell. I gazed into the mild nothingness that started to embrace my foggy mind, struggling to remember how I had come here. I felt a deep urge to lie down on the bed as if a gravitational attraction pulled me towards the hard mattress.

Trying to remember what led me to this room, the notion of a staircase floated somewhere in my head. I turned around and put my hand on the doorknob and was surprised to find a flight of wooden stairs, spiraling down the tower. As I silently tiptoed over the stairs, a high pitched noise erupted from the wooden floor panels. I stood still, afraid to move, and listened to the empty sound, resonating in the iron tower. I wondered how I had gotten on this staircase and couldn't help but feel scared by the lack of memory. Once your memories abandon you, there is nothing left but loneliness haunting an empty mind. I finished the three hundred and sixty degree turn and found myself in front of a dark wooden door, with a brazen knob. Behind it, there was a familiar room, with a window facing north, a small bed and on the table on the left hand side, a wrinkled copy of the old testament. I felt my body dragged across the chamber down on the bed. Etherized, I gazed out the window, where snowflakes spiraled down into the white haze. As the surroundings of the iron tower were all white, there was no depth of field and I couldn't tell where the ground was. When I cuddled up in the warm blanket I had already forgotten about the snowflakes, the tower and the staircase.

In a world that spirals downwards, like snowflakes falling into the silent darkness of the night, there is nothing but your unsheltered mind, haunted by memories that you never knew existed.