I wanted to see what was inside.
The tower stood two hundred feet into the sky.
In the belfry was a bell, but it never rung.
I needed to know why.

The wall was covered in plastic siding.
Tall and stark against the skyline.
The edge challenged my grip.
It was strong enough to support my weight, to climb up.

For hours I moved with vigor, never looking down.
The vinyl hid all the city lights.
At the top I pulled myself over the railing onto the roof.
The belfry rose above me, but the stairwell was sealed shut.

I placed a hand on the plywood seal.
But the board didn't budge.
I secured my foot against the rail and grabbed the barrier with both hands.
The board ripped off cleanly.

The jolt sent me backwards, but I held my footing.
I set the unfastened wood aside.
And looked into the hollow skyscraper.

There was no frame, no elevator, no stairs.
Thirty feet overhead hung a plaster bell painted bronze.
A model of my expectations.

A facade, inside and out.
I was shaken, breathless, drowning in fear.
How would I get down?

If I breath I can call for help!
If I can hold on...

As I peered inside the tower doubt climbed up my back.
Is this my reality?

Do I die here?