At the Top of the Stairs

At the Top of the Stairs

It’s midnight. I should be in bed, but I’m not. I never am now. Thoughts are always consuming my mind during the night. No one is home. I sit at the top of the stairs surrounded by empty bedrooms—five, to be exact. One of them is mine, although I don’t spend much time in it. Darkness is all that is present. No lights are on. No one is laughing or arguing. Everything is silent. A house that once held seven people now only holds me for the night. My dad is out of town and no one else lives here. I sit at the top of the stairs. Memories flood my mind: my older sister moving out and going all the way to Athens, my oldest brother moving to Roswell, my little sister living with my mom in a different house, my other brother becoming a freshman in college and now leaving me just like the rest, my parents divorcing, my empty house, my bad grades, my poor decisions, my failures. I cry. I miss my family. I don’t like being alone. I hate failing.

I do this same routine every night, but one night it’s different. I sit at the top of the stairs. Darkness fills the house except for the light on in my room. I forgot to turn it off. I relish the warmth it brings though. I sit and think like I do every night. This time different thoughts fill my mind. New memories appear. I see my older sister thriving at UGA as an RA, my oldest brother getting a promotion at his job, my other brother experiencing brand new adventures as he starts his first year at college, my little sister becoming a freshman and my parents separated, but happy. I smile. Along with these things, I see more. I see myself overcoming my parent’s divorce, overcoming the pressures of high school and peer pressure, overcoming the tough classes and getting good grades, overcoming the long nights at work, overcoming the inevitable loss of friends, and I can see that I will overcome much more. I began to see the good in the changes that had occurred in my life, and how much I had truly succeeded. For so long I sat at the top of those stairs just staring into the darkness. I made no attempt to get up and turn on my light. When I finally did, I realized that you can search in darkness for light all you want, but you will never find it unless you turn it on yourself. As Earl Nightingale once said, “We all walk in the dark and each of us must learn to turn on his or her own light.” I realized that I needed to turn on my own light. So now, I sit here in my bed, immersed by the light that fills my room, and all I had to do was walk out of the darkness and into my own light.