He

• Montana Slavik, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2011

A loud echo could be heard as he took one long lonely step into the corridor. Mind racing it was as if he was only one, the only one there to live, breath, die. The corridor was long and dark with many doors lining each side. A small whisper was heard from a door up a head, the silence was broken. He did not stop to look at the other doors until he reached the one which the sound came from. He waited there a while, waiting to see if this was really what he wanted, if he opened the door he could not turn back. Slowly he reached his hand for the handle, let the door release open and he fell.