I snuck back to the gate. “I think I might be able to squeeze in.”
The other three trotted behind me. Flavio blurted, “Are you crazy?”
The gate was eerie. The darkness emanating from the crack seemed to be eating the indistinct noise of the children above us. A strange smell exuded from the secret basement, of something old, worn out, and forgotten.
I pushed my head through the slit in between the gate’s doors, peering inside and holding my breath.
Nothing: dark, dark, dark and quiet.
Nico whispered, “Is there someone inside?”
I shrugged. “It’s dark, I don’t think so.”
The light from the opening above and below my head had carved away a slice from the dark, revealing a grey concrete floor on which my shadow lay. Right on the edge of the gray light there seemed to be something, maybe old desks, stacked chairs? I gathered all my courage, wanting to look brave in the eyes of my friends, and for some reason wanting to impress Nico. I was no chicken!
I stepped into the secret basement.
-An Italian Adventure