Chapter 27
There is something weirdly beautiful about abandoned buildings. The echoes or the whispers of whatever lives were lived there seem to hang over the space like cobwebs. It struck me as I came in through the window – this was a place where people were, people who worked and laughed and lived their lives. Now it’s a shell of brick and wood, broken glass and rotted splinters.
The ground floor was open, although the sagging remnants of a wall or two could still be seen here and there. Someone had tagged one of the walls with a Happy Face, then added a bright red bullet hole right in the middle of its forehead.
There was a staircase on the back wall, going up and to the right. It didn’t look very stable, and I was debating whether I should even try to go up it or just wait. I put a
