before anyone says “turn on a light.”, i tried, and it’s still dark. dont worry, we get it, you’re funny. if it makes you feel better i can guffaw with you like middle aged dads laughing over some half-baked joke and slap you on the back affectionately over a beer before telling you another one.
okay, i get that was a bit harsh, but that basement is dark.
so to preface: i inherited this house from my grandma, who is no longer confined to the drags of a physical body. it’s an older suburban home. there’s nothing unusual with it at all except for the fact it’s clearly dated and in need of a few loving renovations. at least, nothing unusual i can recall that’s happened recently (save for that basement smh).
so basically, this all started when i was cleaning out all of her stuff to sort through, things to keep, sell, and then throw away, and i got the impression to check the basement to see if she still kept those family albums i knew she had down there. i recalled she had a bunch of photos from her childhood, as well as my grandfathers, and then pictures of our family growing through the decades. even some of me. i have a large family (she had 11 kids, including my father), and it’d be nice to sort through them, make copies, and send them off to the respective members. might as well, since i’m going through everything else.
because i moved in recently, i hadn’t had much time to check it out or spared a lot of thought for the basement. it was in a weird spot, you could only get through the basement via the shed in the back, but i never thought much of that arrangement because, hey, this is an old home, who knows how they used to make them. it was last saturday when i went down there.
when i went in the shed, i discovered that the shed lights themselves worked just fine. everything in there is just as i remember it, dusty and cluttered (the way all grandpas seemed to like it). at the time, i knew it had been years, but i assumed the basement lights would also probably-maybe work as well, but i grabbed a flashlight from the house just in case. who knows, man, this house is old.
i moved some stuff aside to get to the basement door, coughing a little bit as dust floated away from the boxes i rearranged. i got to the door, although it opened with some resistance. the hinges seemed to have a distaste for use, but i got it open after i gave it a good reckoning. the light from the shed filtered in through the doorway, the smell of age and dust brushing against my nose.
i peered down the stairwell, getting a grip of what i had to work with. at the time, the pitch black at the end of the stairwell looked menacing, but there was nothing unusual about how dark it was. i mean, who’d go down there? my grandma was past the age where she could aptly manage it, and no one else had any need to be down there. but what i did realize, to my own humor, was that the basement entrance looked like something out of a kids cartoon, where they make it look more menacing on purpose because that’s reflective of the kids imagination. i had thought i was imagining it that way too at first, because even though i’m now a bit older, i never lost that little bit of my inner child. so i laughed at myself, and turned to the part of the wall where i knew a light switch was. i flicked it on. nothing happened.
at this point i thought my original suspicions were confirmed, and the light switch here wasn’t working. i knew there was an alternative light switch down there, so i was placing my bets on it in hope that it would work. if not, then i’d have to use flashlights to find my way. if only i had known back then that those attempts would be futile.
sighing at the thought of the exhausted lights, i turned on my flashlight, and pointed it down the stairs. that is when i had first noticed something unusual.
so, the sight was pretty gnarly in the sense that it was cool but also uncanny at the same time. i will do my best to describe what i saw, but if i could, i’d teleport whoever is reading this to my house to see it themselves. it’s pretty hard to believe (hold the “just turn on the light!”), but trust.
basically, the shed lights and the flashlight shined up until the halfway point of the stairs, and i assumed that’s where the foundation of the shed met the ground. past that point, it was like there was a cutoff. it would not shine past that point. no light escaped to the bottom of the stairs, and it was drenched in shadow. puzzled, i stared for a few moments. moved my flashlight around the stairwell. above the foundation line, you could see the beam from my flashlight. below it? yeah, nothing. my curiosity spiked at the same time as my cautious nature told me to beware, but i was compelled by the darkness’s presence. i reasoned to at least try to turn on the lightswitch downstairs.
i kept my flashlight on just in case i’d be able to see through the dark at some point, (at the time, it was more like just in case I stopped imagining things.) i took the first step down the rickety plywood steps with some surety, but not much. a few steps down, and i was at the threshold already. crossing that line through the darkness took about two seconds, and if i wanted to be dramatic i’d say it felt like an eternity. if i wanted to be realistic, im going to describe it as a bit less than that, but still too prolonged. like my step was halted or something. one thing i will note during this time is that my stomach started to hurt up as i crossed the foundation threshold. it normally cramps up for no particular reason at all, but i feel obligated to make note of it now.
i made my way down the threshold and the light of my flashlight was soon rendered completely obsolete. darkness enveloped me as i made my way down, and at this point i was clinging to the railing because i couldn’t see a thing. it wasn’t a mist that blinded my vision or anything like that. it was the absence of light, the darkness pure and weightless.
i don’t know if i was trying to favor these few threads of reality i had to work with, because hey, this isn’t how light works, like, it doesn’t just cut off like that at the ceiling of your basement, but truly some part of me scraped for the notion that if i turned on the bottom light, all would be fine - so i continued.
this darkness was a void. but i kept taking step after step, holding onto the flashlight and the railing as i walked down below. i contemplated if something was wrong with me for a few seconds, because i had gone into this basement years ago, and it was fine, nothing out of the ordinary at all with it. the lights were turned on just fine and everything. i remember being with my grandma, looking for some antiques she needed to find. everything down here was lovingly packaged with care, and she handled each little trinket and book and photo album with grace.
it came to the point where the steps ended. i knew what this part should look like, even knew the number of steps that led down into the basement. there were 13. i felt the switch between the plywood and the pavement, although i saw nothing. i then felt the urge to wave a hand in front of my face, just to see if my eyes would adjust and if I would catch it. i let go of the railing and waved my right hand in my face, about three inches from my nose, so there would be no doubt if i saw it or not. but it was as if nothing happened. i saw nothing. i couldn’t say i felt threatened by my lack of sight, but my stomach lurched involuntarily.
everything about being down here felt unnatural in the darkness, i will tell you that much. it didn’t feel like the basement i fantasized about going down as a kid, hoping that id be able to snoop around and find some hidden treasure. it felt like an unknown terrain.
i turned to my left to find the lightswitch that i knew was placed on the wall. my hand felt the rough hewn stone wall and i palmed for the lightswitch for a good minute and a half before i realized that it wasn’t in the location I remembered it to be. alright, fine, maybe it’s a bit further down. i followed the wall down a few paces. traced along the wall all the way down the base of the wall, too. no light switch. it had to be there, though, i remember flicking it on and off for fun once.
the more time i spent trying to find that darn lightswitch, the more i felt like i was going insane. i looked down at my flashlight, obviously on, but no light emanating from it at all. still, i pointed it close towards the wall. normally, even the soft glow of a flashlight would illuminate the space around it, but here, there was nothing. i grew a little frustrated at the fact more than anything. around this time, i got another stomach cramp.
when i finally decided that i wouldn’t find this lightswitch, i made the resolve to head back upstairs and return with perhaps a more powerful flashlight or something. i sighed, turned around, and turned towards the stairwell. except there was no stairwell.
i turned around, and it seemed that everything behind me was also enveloped in the darkness. i was a little startled, to say the least, but swallowed evenly and placed my left hand against the wall, tracing it as i walked to where i remember the staircase being. i chalked it up to the possibility that perhaps the lightbulb in the shed had also gone out. walking towards the stairs felt slower than my usual pace, like something was slowing me down. its kinda like when the wind works against you while biking, but less in a physical sense.
i felt like i had aged at least a year or two when i felt my shin hit the solid steps. i didn’t anticipate the stairs coming and swung my leg too hard forward. i yelped a little bit, but the sound never reached my ears. but i know i yelped, or at least made some kind of sound. maybe i just didn’t hear myself. i said my name into the air. nothing. it was then it dawned on me, nothing i did down here ever made any noise. the silence now felt all too loud. there wasn’t anything at all.
in seconds, the temperature dropped. maybe that was my imagination, heck, maybe everything that had happened in the past five minutes was my imagination. i don’t know, and i don’t really care. it felt real to me. i felt another stomach ache embrace my gut as i climbed the first step.
but then i had to stop.
in the distance behind me, i heard my own voice yelping back to me.
i stopped dead in my tracks. it was the sound i made when i hit my foot against the steep first step. i swallowed, wondering how much i was going to let the excuse of its all in my head stretch, only to hear the sound of my own voice again about thirty seconds later. my name echoed along the walls to reach me, the stomach ache i had intensifying as i took another step up.
reese.
it was so blatant. like a blot of ink on a page that was just there, for no discernable reason other than the fact it existed. the way the word was said - it was the tone and cadence of my voice within the ultimate identifier that was my name.
in that moment, being in that basement felt akin to the creeping caress of someone’s gaze held upon you.
i gripped the flashlight tighter, pressed my palm flat against the stone wall, and lumbered up the stairwell as quickly as i could, ignoring the fact i would probably be all bruised up by tomorrow.
i’m going to my parents’ place later tomorrow for dinner, i’m hoping to pick up a more heavy-duty flashlight whilst i’m there. i text my boyfriend about it and he seems skeptical, but he’s willing to believe me, whereas my parents dont. i’m hoping to go down there again with him on thursday. normally, i exaggerate a lot of things for the sake of a bit, but this time i’m genuinely not. if anyone has experienced something similar, please let me know if there’s anything i can do to either absolve this issue. i’ve even considered calling up my pastor to pray over the place, lol.