Lingering

May flew down the stairs, skipping one with every step. She leaned her body periodically over the railing, looking down the dizzying set of steps, which stretched all the way to the ground. In the beginning of her pursuit, she could see Bianca a few floors down, but she couldn’t quite clock her speed.

She ran past corner after corner, down flight after flight, running her hand along the railing.

But the more floors she passed, the more she realized that Bianca was outpacing her. Badly.

With each passing step, it seemed Bianca had gone a whole floor. And before long, she faded completely from view, too far down the tower for May to distinguish its discolored railings from her hand.

What am I even doing? she thought. She slid to a halt on the landing for another floor. The marking on the wall read “78” in big, bold numbering. Gritting her teeth at the sight of it, she leaned her head over the railing again.

“Bianca!” she called down. She wasn’t even sure why she was calling anymore. Bianca was, quite plainly, not exactly who she had said. She knew more than she let on. And she was more involved than May wanted to admit.

But at this point, she just wanted to know. She wanted to know about the person that had accepted her, validated her, helped her. To know her motivations. To know her life, and the reasons for her strange demeanor.

To know how she both lied so easily, and was so earnest.

Or maybe her earnestness was just part of the facade.

May felt something inside her trembling, and it crept out from her core: a crushing loneliness. Her hands began to shake, and then her legs, and finally her lips, as a tear rolled from her eye. She trudged over to the nearest step, restraining her tears

Bianca had been there for these past few metamorphic months for her when no one else had. In the beginning, her family was held together, but… it felt like everyone drifted apart. Left her… alone

First, her mother a few years ago. She recalled the photo now sitting on her desk, alone. The years that followed its capture streamed through her mind like a rushing river, but she saw the memories themselves flowing past. So many in which her parents fought. In which she stood idly, as they clashed egos.

Her tears increased in number with each passing memory. Before long she found herself leaning against the railing, blurred-over eyes staring down the stairwell’s center as her tears plummeted down.

Her father a few months ago, too. He’d agreed to let her “help” but dangled the possibility of making a true impact in front of her eyes like one might candy in front of a toddler. And it was all because he went to work with their mother.

May shook her head, rocking back and forth in a futile effort to calm herself.

And now… the one person she’d met that had given her the fuel she needed—the validation and criticism, in equal measure—had left. Just like everyone else was as the world crawled toward its end.

All three were on account of her mother, and herself. Her emotions stewed in her gut, with no release but her tears—some combination of guilt, resignation, anger, and fear. All emerging at once.

May felt a tug on her sleeve, finally registering the panting coming from beside her.

Alice stood at her side, her mouth contorted in a sad, concerned frown. “Are you okay?” She asked, meekly rubbing her older sister’s shoulder. “Where’d that girl go?”

May didn’t respond. She just silently cried with more vigor, shoulders vibrating with the pent up energy now.

Her sister didn’t say anything either. Maybe that was why it helped so much when she wrapped her sister in a warm, caring hug. She stepped toward May, and leaned her full weight on her sister, hugging her tight, and May could almost feel Alice trying to hold back her own tears.

The warmth seeped into the world of her mind. She embraced it, and her sister. But the pain was still there.

Through the warmth, though, she could ignore it. For now.

“What happened, May?” Alice pulled back a bit, locking eyes with her.

May jolted at her sister’s use of her name. She could feel her sister’s sincerity, and genuine concern. She’d always been there, providing that empathy and caring. May wasn’t quite sure where she got it from, though—it was clearly not intrinsic to the rest of them, as her memories and the current state of things made clear.

Regardless, she collected herself, and then smiled at Alice through the tears. “Nothing. I’m all better now.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Her eyes relaxed in relief and satisfaction.

So innocent, May thought.

“Guys!” panted their father, hobbling down the staircase. He clutched his side, keeling over a bit more with each step. It looked like any one of them, he would tumble down the stairs completely. At last, he descended to a step from which he could see the two of them sitting next to each other.

“Ah!” he gasped. “Good! There you are!” He clumsily shuffled down a few more steps, still clutching his side with one hand from the exertion. “We’ve gotta go!”

From the swirling mire of emotions in her chest in that moment, annoyance shone through the most brightly. “Uh, what?” she asked.

“The top of the building, it’s—” He panted for another breath. “It’s going to be extirpated!”

“What? What do you mean?” May and her sister both jumped to their feet.

“It’s hard to explain, but… just keep going down. No elevator.”

May, without a word, started leaping back up stairs 3 at a time.

“Hey! May!” her father called, trying to stop her.

But she barreled past him, continuing up floor after floor. Just past him were the two couples, looking in equal amounts scared and confused.

“May! Come down here now!” she heard from behind her.

She ignored it, running past each floor as fast as she could, until she reached the 93rd—some 80 feet from even reaching the top. She panted for air, sliding to a halt on the landing.

Before her waved in the air that same shaking and bending boundary; the rainbow of twisting light that she’d seen in January, on the day she’d met Bianca.