Q6mLMCS.png [https://i.imgur.com/Q6mLMCS.png]

The Walk-In Closet

It was late spring in 1967. The year after I made it through second grade with Miss K (name changed). I admit I really gave her a hard time. But I gave the girls in class the hardest time of all. I'd pull their hair and trip them and do all sorts of things. I'd never sit down. I just didn't like being there, I guess.

But I liked Miss K. I wrote her a very nice card for Christmas all by myself. It wasn't until late in the school year that she found something I could do in class which I enjoyed. She had me take care of organizing tasks. I'd be in charge of giving out glue and making sure the craft supplies were all in order. Things were chaotic at home, so being able to take control of things at school really helped.

She only let me do that when I was being good, so I would always do my darndest to be good. I actually got an A for the whole year. It was easy.

Then came third grade. I had Mrs. Walker. She was nice enough, but she didn't know what Miss K had done, so it wasn't as much fun. I went back to doing what I usually did to cope.

This was Clark Street Elementary. It's torn down now, but it was a tall, brick building that had been around since the 1920s. The front was tall, like a cathedral. The grades were split up into halls at intersecting lines. Second and third grade occupied the wing furthest back. It was the oldest section and the longest walk to lunch. The school had three stories. The higher grades had the highest floors. Kindergarten was almost in the basement.

It happened on a Friday. I'd been especially bad that day. I was wound up, and I guess Mrs. Walker had had enough of me after I kicked over someone's desk. She told me to sit in the classroom's walk-in closet and think about what I'd done. The walk-in closets at school were huge, with plenty of room to sit. You could lay flat on the floor and not touch two walls no matter how much you stretched out.

The day had been warm, so I was the only thing in there aside from some misplaced winter clothes no one ever claimed. I plopped down on the floor. For a while, I kicked my legs. I thought about throwing a tantrum but, with the door shut, I couldn't hear anything outside. So, I figured that they couldn't hear me as well.

I waited. I amused myself by sorting the abandoned clothes by color. Then I sorted them by size. Type. And then I just took to piling them up to see how high that would be. I stared at the door to will Mrs. Walker to come get me. I would hang my head and rub at my arm. I'd repeat whatever she wanted. Then I would get out. But she wasn't coming.

I leaned against one of the walls and counted the hooks. I lost count pretty quickly. Eventually, I made a little pillow out of the biggest coat and sat there. It was really boring. I imagined all the things I could be doing right then. I rested my eyes a bit.

It felt like I was in there long enough to sleep and have a dream. It was strange though. In it, I thought I could hear quick and heavy footsteps across the ceiling of the closet. Like something was rushing along. Then it dashed down the wall behind me.

I jerked up and rubbed my face. The only light inside the closet was a very old, weak bulb. It looked dimmer than before. I glanced under the closed door to the classroom and noticed the seam was oddly dark. I stretched and figured that Mrs. Walker was showing a filmstrip. It would be a good chance for me to peek out and see. Maybe I could even put on a sad face and she'd let me go back to my seat.

I pushed the door open quietly and looked out. The room was indeed dark. But it was also empty. No classmates. No Mrs. Walker. Nobody at all. It was hard to see. I left the closet door open a little so I had some light.

I looked around in confusion. It was after lunch. I considered maybe there was a trip to the library I'd forgotten about. But then I looked out the windows off to the side. It was night with the view blocked by the big oaks around the school. Staring, I felt tense.

I tried to find the clock on the wall. It was a wind-up one which often stopped, but I could see the little hand was nearest the four. I held onto a desk and shook my head. It wasn't possible.

With my right ear, I heard a sudden "thud". My knees jerked and my head turned. I couldn't make out much with the dim light from the closet. It sounded like it was over by the small area Mrs. Walker used for books, so I figured a stack just happened to fall over. But, in the dark, my legs trembled. I wanted to get out of here.

I moved slowly between the rows of desks till I found mine. There was something on top of it. I paused. It wasn't moving. Leaning closer, I recognized the dim figure of a cowboy on a horse. It was my metal lunchbox. I picked it up and drank what water I had left. I coughed and hugged my lunchbox to myself.

I immediately felt like I really needed to go to the bathroom. I fidgeted and looked over to the outside door. I tried it, but it was locked. No amount of frantic pushing opened it.

I shifted on my legs. I thought about peeing in the teacher's wastebasket but it was really dark and the wastebasket made me feel nervous when I looked at it. The whole room made me feel nervous. I had to leave.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I felt a little better when the door facing the central hall easily pushed open. I leaned my head through. A few lights were on in the hall but not many. Maybe one out of every five. There were vast islands of darkness with dim bits of light clustered around far off doors and lockers.

The hall looked strange in the dark, but I soon was able to recall the nearest bathroom. It was at a juncture to the right from the classroom door after a broom closet and a reading room.

I stepped slowly on the tile. Everything was so quiet that it was like I could hear blood pressing in and out of my ears. It was a dull throb again and again. I didn't even think about calling out. I had too much on my mind and I didn't want to see someone come at me in the dark, even if they were coming to help.

Every so often, the silence would be shattered by a ceiling creak which felt like it burst out from all directions at once. At least my steps were quiet, with a little scuffle-squeak when I accidentally dragged my feet.

I could make out the door marked "Boys" from a spill of light. I pushed on the door and felt relief that it opened. The lights inside were out though. I felt around for the switch but couldn't find it. Thinking back, I realize they were turned on with a key.

I felt around a long corner and could make out the stalls with a bit of light through a high, frosted window above. I grabbed the middle stall because I could barely even see the urinals in the dark, set my lunchbox beside me, and used the toilet.

I'd just finished and I was about to flush when I heard a sound that froze me in place. The restroom door creaked open. This was strange because I didn't hear a creak when I opened it. And this was a very long creak, like someone was gradually opening the door inch by inch.

After the creak, I heard footsteps advancing through from the door towards me. They too were slow.

One step.

Then the other.

Back and forth.

Closer and closer.

They sounded really heavy. Definitely the footsteps of a man taller than my dad, and he was about six feet.

The stalls weren't that high, so I tensed up and wondered how tall he could be. Surely he could see me over the top of the partition. I looked. I couldn't see anything in the dark.

I listened for a breath or a friendly whistle of a janitor doing a late shift at the school. I heard nothing aside from the footsteps. They stopped near the sink and seemed to turn in place.

I considered calling out. But the whole feeling right then made every word I could think of leave me. I clamped my mouth shut and hoped hard that he would just leave so I could too.

Step by slow step, the sounds moved from the sink over to me. Though they were very close, they didn't sound any louder than they'd been when they entered the room. They still sounded heavy, but like I was hearing them through muffled ears.

The sound continued right in front of my stall and went past it without stopping. I should've felt better at that, but I knew there was only one exit, so whoever was making those strange footsteps would have to walk past my door again if they were going to leave.

I cupped my breath with my hands and crouched on the toilet. There were no new sounds for several moments when suddenly…

*WHAM!*

The stall door furthest to the left hit against the wall and then bounced back to clatter against the latch. It was like someone had suddenly kicked it with their foot with all their strength. The sound felt deafening.

I wasn't able to hear the footsteps, but I did hear when the same thing happened to the door right next to that one.

*WHAM!*

This one was louder. And the bangs that followed as it whacked back and forth told me that whoever was doing it was strong. And they were coming over to my door.

I'd locked the door when I entered the stall. The latch was all the way across. But I knew from seeing the upper-grade kids kick open the doors that they weren't unbreakable.

*WHAM!!*

My ears rang as the door bounced back and forth. I wasn't sure how many stalls there were, but it sounded like there were only a few between him and me. I tried to think. What if some criminal had broken into the school? What would he do to me? I moved as quietly as possible as I got off the toilet and tried to hide myself behind it. With the darkness, I hoped that I would be hard to spot against the dark tile of the wall.

*WHAM!!!*

Two doors away. I slid my lunchbox close. An idea occurred to me that it was heavy and it might be something I could throw at whoever tried to kick my door in. It might not do much, but I was sure I'd be able to get away. At least my racing mind right then was sure it would work.

*WHAM!!!!*

The door next to mine slammed open with the rattling and noise of it hitting the stall and then crashing against the latch. I held my breath and ducked down as low as I could. I clutched tightly to my lunchbox and tensed my arms.

I could hear heavy, scuffing footsteps right in front of the door. I braced myself.

*CLATTER*

Something struck the door. The whole stall shook violently. I could even feel it in the wall. I waited for a comment by the person on the other side to give me an idea of who they were. I heard nothing but the sounds of shaking till it settled down.