1 Sofia

Felipe had been waiting for the elevator for five minutes long - just that day he couldn't be late. Thinking it was broken, he decided to go down the stairs. He went to the emergency exit, opened the heavy door, and began quickly go down the steps. As soon as they reached halfway through the second flight of stairs the lights went out. Felipe hesitated, and almost fell. A nervous smile appeared on his face. Calm, he took a deep breath and slowly, groping in the dark with his right hand on the wall, went back down the stairs.

It had not been two days since he had turned thirty-six, and he inaugurated this new chapter of his life by being late on the day of the most important meeting of the year. He was tired, and his weariness reflected clearly on his apathetic face. The once blue eyes gradually faded to a dirty gray. Wrinkles almost completely filled his forehead. His footsteps echoed down the stairs, and with each floor that descended, memories that had been forgotten came back to life. Remembering his mother's advice, he faced the life he now had. He had studied hard to grow up in life, but that was no good, for he only got the job he had thanks to the flattery he did to his bosses, and being cruel to subordinates. And on top of that, he was impatient with women. Shaking his head, Felipe tried to push those thoughts away.

He wondered which floor he was on. Eighteenth floor? Seventeenth floor? Seventeen ... Sofia ... Another flood of memories emerged from him unconscious. The beautiful seventeen-year-old girl who had committed suicide because of the abuse of her alcoholic father and paranoic mother. Obviously they had not been arrested, and in less than a month they had moved out of the apartment. She was shy, always alone. He remembered how she went to the market every day, shopping home. Felipe had given her a lift a few times. He had no ulterior motives, only sympathy for the young woman with eyes full of curiosity and a bit of melancholy.

A feeling of unease invaded his body. One day, when giving her a ride, he noticed that she was crying, but because she was a teenager, he thought not to ask the reason, because he did not want to get involved and end up giving loving advices. He stopped and turned on the cell phone display so he could see the floor sign.

Seventeenth floor.

He moved on, still lost in thought. On another occasion, returning late from work, she found Sofia sitting on the sidewalk with a tired expression.

Sixteenth floor.

Seeing him, she hide her face. But why? That makes no sense. They knew each other and had a good relationship; there was no reason for her to hide something from him.

Fifteenth floor.

Often he had taken the elevator with her, also on her way to school, as well as the times when he got back from work early – on those occasions he would find her coming back from the market. A strong chill ran down his spine. He hesitated to continue down the stairs. He realized that the farther down, more uncomfortably memories about Sofia came to his mind. He tried to stop, but failed, his brain commanding him to continue. Cold sweat ran down his face, and slowly his mouth was drying.

Fourteenth floor.

He needed to count the floors, to distract his mind, and also to get a sense of how much was left to reach the ground floor. He didn't want to feel like going down endless stairs in the dark. A flash of light erupted in his thoughts. One day when he went to work in the morning, she was wearing sunglasses, and he could see something like a blur behind them. Fool, I had thought it was some kind of weird makeup on young people used nowadays. Only then did I know that this was a bruise.

Thirteenth floor.

He felt a sharp twinge in his heart. He had no strength to keep down the stairs. It seemed that with each step taken, the weight of his body doubled. He tried to take a deep breath again, but unpleasantly realized that he couldn't breathe properly as more memories bloomed in his mind. In another casual encounter in the elevator, the silence and sad face of Sofia… Her eye was swollen and purple. Bastard! How could a father do this to his own daughter?

Twelfth floor.

His footsteps echoed like gunshots, the noise was unbearable. Despair began to take over his body. He needed to stop coming down the stairs, needed to breathe. A door slammed a few floors above. Finally Felipe would be able to stop walking. Tears streamed down his face, drawing as much air as he could into her lungs. He thought of sitting, but unexpectedly, he heard a sound of approaching footsteps. He was frightened, but soon recovered the reason. It was just another hurried person like him who used the stairs to go to work. Work ... He was late, and needed to continue. And walked back in the darkness again.

Eleventh floor.

A small apprehension surrounded his thoughts. Again that sweet girl's face was drawn in his mind. He couldn't believe, he hadn't done anything to help. If he had at least called the Child Protectives Services, that would certainly not have happened. Something wanted to come to his mind, but he couldn't remember what it was.

Tenth floor.

The steps from above bothered him. They weren't regulars like his, they were limping, almost like a drag. Felipe decided to speed up the walk.

Ninth floor.

He felt guilty that he had not helped Sofia, his negligence costed the price of a lifetime. The steps were faster now, closer. A strong indisposition dominated his legs, he felt that soon he would no longer have the strength to continue.

Eighth floor.

Felipe could feel someone a few flight up the stairs. Gathering the last of his energies, in a runaway career, he descended the steps without caring about anything else.

Seventh floor.

His stomach clenched, soon regurgitating the meager breakfast he had hurriedly eaten. Again Sofia appeared in his mind.

Sixth floor.

An explosion of thoughts invaded his brain, Sofia's tender smiles, her sadness, her looks, all the memories he had of her, abruptly surfaced like lightning. He hit the wall with his shoulder as he turned to another flight of stairs.

Fifth floor.

He tripped and almost fell. Even so, he kept running. He remembered the last day he had seen her alive. Sofia had gone to talk to him, cried a lot, but ...

Fourth floor.

But he had ignored her. It was night, the executive had just returned from a failed meeting, and saw the poor girl at the concierge waiting for him. Behind him, the steps quickned. The lungs burned.

Third floor.

She held something in her hands, perhaps a letter... With a simple, withering look of disinterest, he broke Sofia's heart. Nearing those last steps, he felt his heart burn like it was going to explode.

Second floor.

A sweet girl who, even plunged into grief, could see that even with this insensitive carapace, he still had something good. Someone who was beyond a mere neighbor, who was kind, without malice, and could help her. Just behind, something brushed the railing. The eyes of dilated pupils burned from the excessive sweat that invaded them.

First floor.

The next day, hearing of the girl's suicide, he decided to ignore it so as not to feel guilty. His stalker was on the same flight of stairs as him.

Ground floor.

Finally arrived! He opened the door and stepped into the candlelit lobby. He felt a gentle touch of hand on his right shoulder, and a courteous voice called his name behind. Felipe turned and saw Sofia, who was wearing a beautiful purple dress and a dazzling smile. Luckily, she had brought the tickets to the show. Without further ado, they walked over to the receptionist who checked the tickets and indicated their seats. Genuine happiness welled up in Felipe's chest. Fidelio was his favorite opera.