Darkness surrounds me. A row of dim metal lights hangs from the ceiling, swinging back and forth, keeping up a rhythm of squeaks. The light barely lights up the endless hallway before me. Off-white doors become visible in the distance. I feel fake. This can’t be real. I look down at my feet to realize I am floating, just hovering above the ground. My body starts to move forward.
As I move towards the first white door, muffled screaming and crying fills the air, clouding together, following me like a nagging memory. The yelling and sobbing sounded louder and louder until I stood in front of the door. Then silence. The faded white paint chipped on the door, revealing a rough wooden interior. I slowly reached out for the golden doorknob as I became anxious. My hands become sweaty as they mold around the knob. The knob wobbles and I jiggle the door, resulting in the door popping from the door jam. The door slowly creeks open, presenting the scene behind it. A plain room with a big bed fixated in cream-colored wooden frame lay up against the wall, protruding out into the center of the room. A half bookshelf holding a silver television was crammed in the space left between the wall and the bed on the left side of the room. A single white door with a silver handle was shut on the right side of the wall, right next to a long wooden dresser plated with gold handles on every drawer. The whimpering of kids caught my attention. In the left corner of the room hid three kids behind the bed. I walked slowly to get a closer look. I reached out to console the kids and ask them what was wrong. Similar blue eyes, brimmed with tears, captivated me as they peered at me. I froze in place. I was staring into my own eyes. It was me. I was young. I gazed at the kids next to my younger self. It was my brother and sister. We were all so young. My brother had his arms wrapped around my sister and me, consoling us. Tears streamed down all of our faces. For a second, I could taste the salt from tears as fear and sorrow flashed through my heart, taking me by surprise. It was the emotions that my younger self was experiencing at that moment. A loud bang disturbed me from my thoughts, making me jump. My mother and father rushed into the room screaming threats in each other’s faces. Things fly across the room, shattering against the wall. I find myself backing away from the scene, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My father lunges at the wall with a balled fist making me flinch, looking away. In the split second, I had turned my head, the door slammed shut.
Once again, I’m back in the hallway. I tremble as the scenes from my memory flash in my head. I shake my head vigorously trying to shake away the thought. The rattling of chains draws me out of my flashback. As I move further down the hallway, locked doors appeared. Chains in the form of “X’s” stretched across the doorways, from corner to corner. Thick rusted brass locks, hung in the middle of the doors, kept the chains together. I slid my finger along the surface of one of the locks, in return, my finger is stained a red-brown color. I tried to rub it away, but it only smears it. I hadn’t realized the progress I had made down the hallway. The doors now looked more modern and in good shape. Perfectly whitened, smooth doors with no cracks or chips.
Weeping is heard as I slow to a stop at another door. Without thinking, I reach for the doorknob. The clicking of a deadbolt lock is heard from the door, stopping me in my tracks. After a few seconds, I attempted to turn the doorknob, but it didn’t budge. It was locked. A swarm of confusion beamed across my face. An eerie cool breeze made its way down the hallway, sending chills down my spine. The squeaking of an opening door sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to find out which door was opening. Steam rolled across the floor from the crack of the open door across the hall. I walked over cautiously. I gently pushed on the door. the door swings open slowly releasing more steam out of the room. The scene of a yellow bathroom becomes visible. The steam from a running bath fogs the room. To the left of the bathroom, stone tablets lay hammered to the wall. The tablets display encouraging words of wisdom about life with different types of glass flowers hung above them for decoration. On the back wall, a large mirror paired with a black marble counter fit with a sink and a white toilet takes up the majority of the space. On the right, a white bathtub with a tan colored tiled wall is slightly covered by a dark, country styled shower curtain. Letters become visible on the mirror reading, “I’m sorry.” Sniffling and murmured sobbing can be heard behind the shower curtain. I pulled the curtain back with my fingertips. tears swell in my eyes as I clasp my hand over my mouth. I let out a hardened wail as I watch bloodstream into the running water, swirling into circles before going down the drain. I look over to the woman sitting on the edge of the tub with a razor clasped in her hand. It was me, but older now. I watched myself cut into my skin with the razor, seeing how deep I could go. I felt burning and stinging on my arm. I flinched as I could see scars appear. One by one, they marked themselves in a line down my arm. I screamed at myself to stop. I cried as blood rushed down my arms. I started to rub my arms and shake my head as I pleaded for it to stop. Just Stop! It went quiet. I was in the hallway again. I hurriedly surveyed my arms for the cuts. They were gone.
I start to run down the hallway as my eyesight becomes blurred from the tears. I push myself to run harder and faster but the hallway continuously extends before me. Laughter booms like thunder, malicious and wicked. Hurtful words form from the laughter, “stupid”, “fat”, “ugly”. A dark wooden door becomes evident at the end of the hallway. Fear overwhelms me as I imagine what could be waiting for me behind it, but I needed to get away. I close my eyes and burst through the door. Silence. I nervously opened one of my eyes enough to see blurred outlines of the scenery before me. Light shined through and I felt a sense of relief. I opened my eyes wide as I tried to understand where I was. I stood in an open field. I turned in circles to try to assess my surroundings. Tall, dark green grass patched the field along with various types of flowers and trees. A dirt road protruded from the field, along with sketches and outlines of objects that were started, but wasn’t finished. This scene before me, this world, was unfinished. It waited patiently to be drawn. I was the one to draw it. An endless expanse unfolds before me.
Short Stories
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