SILVER

1000 steps

What if at some point in life you learned that you had a limited number of steps to live? What would you do? Despair over your helplessness or perform an incredible and epic feat that would make those steps count? If you want some help with this question you are free to read the account that I wrote about my decision. I hope it helps you.

My life became dependant on the number of steps I took, on a very wet and dull Thursday. I was sitting in my room, next to the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass pane. It was the only habit that I shared with my mother. People did say that I look a lot like her, but fate had other plans for her so I never knew myself how she looked like. This was because my father had, in no time, married a woman who was appalled to see my mother’s pictures in the house and had them burned in minutes. My father had been very keen to carry out the task himself.

Anyhow, I was four at that time, so my account may be biased. I left the raindrops racing down the windowpane and got up to put my mother’s diary back in my shelf behind two thick world history books. I had sneaked them out of my mother’s belongings quite a while ago and wanted to keep them hidden from both of them. Being an only child can be difficult sometimes. The door behind me opened and I heard two different footsteps enter. I already knew what was coming, so I braced myself for it.

“Hey, kid!” shouted my father. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I looked at him and saw what I hated the most, his yellow suit with his ridiculous spotted tie and his arm around the waist of my stepmother.

“Good, now listen up! We’re going out tonight. The whole family is required to go. Now -”

I cut him off. “Well, then, why aren’t you gone already? They said family, so you should have no problem entering there.” I gave him a calm and steady look. I knew I had caused his fury to rise again but I didn’t care anymore. To my surprise, he made a rude gesture with his hands and left my room. Usually, he would have beaten me up, so this was a huge change. I looked at my stepmother and something about her also caught me by surprise.

She was smiling at me! 

“What do you want?” I asked her sharply

“Oh, nothing, dear,” she said in her fake-sweet voice. “Just have to say two words to you.” She leaned closer to me and placed her lips right next to my ear and whispered, “Thousand steps”.

I felt an electric shock go through my spine. She smiled at me and kissed my forehead.

“Goodbye, dear!” she said and left the room.

I could hear the car engine start and the car driving away. I just stood there looking at my feet for about an hour, not daring to move them out of fear. I had no idea what she had done to me, but logic spoke out and I understood one thing: my life was, from that point onwards, only a thousand steps long.

I looked at my feet and raised my right foot ... and heard a faint buzzing. I placed my foot on the ground and suddenly a number popped into my head.

‘999’

My fear became a reality. I was sure now that I had only a thousand ... correction nine-hundred and ninety-nine steps left to live. All my life I had had conflicting emotions about my father because sometimes he would be very nice to me but then suddenly he would start beating me up. I never knew why. Now, I knew that it had all been the doings of my step-mother.

HHHHHHHHHHHH

I had reached my lawn and already the number ‘970’ had popped into my head. My mind was clear now; I knew what I had to do. To reach that all-family get together was my goal now. My resolve was absolute. Since it was two blocks away, I knew the distance was short and by taking long steps I could ‘cheat’ this game that my step-mother was playing.

‘562’

The place was a stone’s throw away. I had used my steps very carefully and now I could have revenge from my stepmother. But, life never tends to go the way you want it to. A few paces away from the place where the function was going underway stood an old lady, carrying four or five plastic bags, trying to cross the road.

I stood waiting for someone to go and help her but luck wasn’t with me. Running wildly, I reached the woman and took the bags from her. She looked at me and gave me a smile, “Thank you, young man. It’s so difficult to find people who wish to help other people in their time of need.”

We crossed the road and when I dropped her bags on a bench at the bus stop, my brain buzzed:

‘293’

I told her that I had to go somewhere; she patted my back once and then turned away. I looked back to the building I was supposed to go to, and my heart sank; I would need at least 150 steps to reach the building and then 50 steps to find my parents. My whole situation was grim if my revenge was to be performed in person. I gathered up my courage and began to walk.

‘256’

‘221’

‘163’

The building loomed over me. I opened the door and walked in, wondering how I would find them here. But, that was the least of my worries. My stepmother saw me and said something to two guards, pointing in my direction. I had only 160 steps more to live and I could not afford to waste them. So, I did what made sense to me; I ‘fainted’.

I thought that as long as I didn’t take any steps I wouldn’t lose them. It seemed logical until I heard my stepmother’s voice: “They would still be touching you and taking steps!”

Too late! They grabbed me and lifted me off my feet.

‘157’

The steps kept buzzing into my head. They took me upstairs into a room and locked it from the outside.

‘103’

I didn’t move from the spot where they had dropped me. My mission had failed and I was about to die, but somehow I knew that I absolutely had to talk to my stepmother.

My wish was granted. The door opened and my stepmother walked in the room holding a goblet.

“Honey! You didn’t have to meet me out here! Why did you go through all that trouble?” she said in her fake-sweet voice.

Anger boiled inside me and I wanted to throttle her, but the sane part of me took charge.

“Why are you doing this?” I blurted.

She looked at me as if I was an injured puppy, “Oh your mother asked me the same question when she was in the same position!” she giggled.

Realization dawned over me and I understood what she was. She was a witch!

“Why only me and my mother!? Why not him as well?” I shouted.

She regarded me then pushed me back so quickly that I lost my footing and fell on my back. The  buzzing began instantly.

‘101’

I stood up and saw, to my horror, a tall, beautiful but scary woman standng in place where my stepmother should have been.

“Only a hundred steps left, what will you do?” she asked, abandoning all pretence “I suppose your father wasn’t my target because his wife owned a charm which gave me so much power that I couldn’t resist keeping him alive. I simply charmed him and he fell for me, simple as that. As for your mother, she had to die - with her alive, I couldn’t access the charm’s complete powers.” She explained, “So, you see why I killed her; you I kept alive because you retained some of her charm, now since you’ve been drained of it I have no need for you.” She turned around and vanished into black smoke.

Yes, I lost it and ran for the main room. It was farther than I had expected but my lust for revenge was too strong. Something she had said had seemed wrong to me. I knew that I had to reach her and say it.

‘20’

I saw her standing next to my father. He looked happy and I now knew that he had never been in the wrong. He had been manipulated by this witch and I had to stop her. I started walking. She saw me and, for the first time, I saw something else in her eyes, something I thought I would never see... fear.

‘11’

I was standing five steps away from them. I called my father. “Hey, Dad!” I said. He looked at me and after all those years of hatred, I saw love for me in those eyes. I ran to him and hugged him. He wept.

‘9’

‘4’

I didn’t care now. I knew I had won. I walked towards my stepmother and put my lips right next to her ear, and whispered, “One thousand steps.”

Her whole body was shaking now and I could see her eyes. They were lost and unfocussed, as if someone had shut them off.

‘2’...

‘1’...

I faced my father and grabbed his hand,

“Goodbye, dad!” I spoke quietly. “I may not have been the best son, but you were always my father, and for that I will always love you!” Tears formed in my eyes and I let them fall.

‘0’.