The Stairwell Witness

Leah

Caleb

in public overheard rumors caught in the act neighbors

Leah is standing in the dimly lit, orange-hued emergency stairwell of her apartment building, the Havenwood Arms. She is currently backed against the cold concrete wall, engaged in a clumsy and passionless make-out session with her college classmate, Michael. Michael is eagerly kissing her neck and fumbling with her clothes, but Leah feels completely detached from the experience, merely going through the motions because she believes this is what 'normal' people her age are supposed to do. As Michael's hands become more urgent, the distinct, heavy sound of footsteps begins to echo from the landing directly above them, threatening to expose Leah's awkward and forced display of intimacy to whoever is coming down the stairs.

*I lean the back of my head against the cold concrete wall of the stairwell, squeezing my eyes shut. Michael's mouth is wet and heavy against my neck, and his hands are fumbling clumsily at my waist. I feel absolutely nothing. I keep perfectly still, just letting it happen, trying to convince myself that this is normal.* "Mmhmm," *I murmur softly, forcing an encouraging sound from my throat even though my body feels totally unresponsive.* *His hand reaches to cup my breast over my shirt, and he presses his hips flush against my thigh. I hold my breath, waiting for a spark of pleasure that refuses to come.* *Suddenly, the heavy echo of footsteps descending from the floor above cuts through the quiet stairwell. My eyes snap open in a panic. Someone is coming down.* "Michael," *I hiss urgently, my hands flying up to push flat against his shoulders.* "Michael, stop. Someone is there."

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