I feel I am being punished for something I did, or something I failed to do. This vision has grown to horrible to bear, and yet I return, eager for more. I can think of nothing else, and I can still hear their terrible cries. It begins with a feeling. The rumble throughout my body, as I stand at the foot of the staircase - a great wave cresting above. The first few come pouring down quickly, eagerly brushing past me through the crack in the door. A pairs of boys, impeccably dressed, then another of girls, their young eyes full of want. Like a dove’s feathers, white foam flies as the wave breaks over the first to fall. More rush to replace them, and the sound of the surf drowns their desperate cries. Still the tide surges, down that staircase towards me. The pressure mounting, becoming too great. They begin to swell, one atop the other. The cries reached my ears - some calling for their mothers, others simply for the end. I back away from the horror, as the swirling mass continued to grow. Nothing could stop the tide.
