leftovers

You live on the ninth floor of an old building. It's night, and your mother is in the kitchen sorting through some food packages that need to be delivered to the neighbors. You look at the bag and then at the apartment door. To get to the other floors, there's only a narrow, poorly lit staircase. "Son, take this food to the neighbors, please. And come back soon." You take the bag, open the door, and start down the stairs. The ninth-floor hallway is completely empty. The light above you flickers a few times. You go down one flight of stairs... then another. The building is silent. Too silent.