Little girl lost

The girl stumbled through the tattered streets, running as fast as her stunted legs would carry her. The city streets loomed above her, with cold masonry crumbling to the earth. The cracked and blackened sidewalks seemed to grasp at her feet as she ran, slowly begging her to stay with them for another while.

She slowed in front of an apartment, gasping for breath. It's a tall, thin building, sickly and rotten from years of disuse. The glass is stained brown from dust in the areas where it hasn't been smashed altogether. For a moment, she closes her eyes. Imagining a bustling building full of happy strangers, waiting for her. There are no bad men waiting to put her to rest, just smiles. Always smiling.

When she opens her eyes, she winces from the rusty air. It's much of the same. If she had any hair left, she would've pulled it out with frustration, or perhaps throw a tantrum nobody would hear. But she doesn't do any of that. Instead, she steps inside the decrepit hotel.

The lobby is expansive in its emptiness, about the size of a silver ballroom. There's a smattering of chairs and tables, waiting for new occupants. The once sheeming wood has rotted to a pulpy brown paste, creaking as it fails to hold the masonry in place. She crosses the dry wooden floor, feeling the splinters enter her skin, until she reaches the remains of a front desk.

She rang the bell.

The echoes of the ring crossed through the empty zigzagged halls. Maybe a servant would show up, ask her name, take her to see a family. But they don't. The rules don't work that way anymore. Sigguros walks past the broken entryway to a long, brass stiarcase. The upper ledge is washed in darkness, and she can see loose rivets present in each step. The whole affair seems to shreak with protest as she walks, crunching and snapping as metal tends to do.

The hallway is long and grimy, with threadbare carpeting curling around the halls. Doors stand in a row on each side, standing guard over the dust and mold. She takes slow steps, glancing through blackened halls and wishing for home. Clenching her eyes shut, she stops her pace and waits.

waiting

waiting

waiting

But nothing ever changes. Every time her eyes open they will be stung by the rusted flakes drifting aimlessly from the rafters, ending a long journey that began long before Sigguros trod these halls. She would cry, but nobody