FICTION PIECE

The Place That Used to Be

by Taylor Corkill

 

It was the farthest corner away from the door that led to the last room down the hallway on the highest floor in the oldest building on the block. It was the place that had thirty-seven minute, sporadic holes across the off-white walls from when they were bored and had only tacks to entertain themselves with. It was the place that held their whispered secrets and frustrated tears inside rotted walls. The place that had a single crack down the spine of the left corner from water damage that had happened long before either of them was born.

It had been their haven from the world when everything went the wrong way, and they loved the place perhaps just as much as themselves.

The old, checkered floor made them laugh with games of ‘Don’t step on the crack!’ and hopscotch that first made them realize how bad their aim was. The ugly, brown graffiti on the damaged walls of the first floor made them each notice that they might be more different than they thought, but it was also what made them so perfect. The rundown, teal-colored bathrooms with shattered mirrors sparked their creativity and fears when the sun set and a gentle breeze made the place groan. The rooms filled with white boards that only allowed sharpie to be written across them, helping teach each other through the frustrations that made them want to give up. The friendly neighborhood birds that perched on decrepit stone trims that had them bringing concoctions of food to see who the better chef was. The wrought iron sliding gates that were supposed to bar them from unstable elevator shafts that instead made them come to the conclusion that perhaps they loved each other more than they knew as sirens wailed, basking dark corners with dangerous hues of red and blue.

Then, it no longer was the farthest corner away from the door that led to the last room down the hallway on the highest floor in the oldest building on the block; but a demolished building replaced by shiny new hallways with classy non-squeak doors that led to rooms full of new technology and smooth white corners without cracks.

It was no longer the place that was, but the place that used to be, and they were okay with that. They had a new place, and it was each other.