The Door

February 23, 2012
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The clock chimes twelve as I sneak through the dark hall. Pictures on the wall watch me and the snow outside cast shadows on the wall as if there was a hidden disco ball in the room. The full moon shines brightly and as I walk beside windows the moonlight overpowers my little candle and instead of the orange glow my candle brought to my face, the moonlight makes my pale skin show and resemble that of a ghost. I get closer and closer to my destination and farther and farther from the danger that awaits me behind the other door. All of a sudden the wind picks up and I hear a small creak from behind me. As if I had sent a silent command, my candle blows out and the room is now darker than before. I scurry over and pin myself to the wall. I see nothing, but then he walks in front of the window and I see his scarred face and old, weak eyes. I don’t know if he sees’ me, or even knows I’m in the room. A start inching my way to the other door where the secrets behind it are yet to be discovered. I soon touch the polished wooden frame of the door and close my eyes as the door blows my cover with a squeak. The man stops, my breath stops. All of a sudden he picks up speed and starts speed walking towards the noise. My eyes are filled with fright and my heart was popping out of my chest. I quickly closed my eyes as if that would make me invisible. He stops and lights his pipe. The orange glow from the pipe flickers across his face and gives mine a slight glow. He looks into my eyes, but instead of grabbing my collar and dragging me back, he only grins. His rotten yellow teeth look even more yellow because of his, now lighted pipe. I open my mouth to say something, but my mind is blank and no words come out. He suddenly grabs my hand, but to my astonishment, I hold it tight. He starts to turn the squeaky doorknob. Finally the door is opened and it is filled with a magnificent light. I look back at him and beckon him to follow me in, but he only frowns and lets go of my hand. I return his frown. I see the other door open, the eerie red light seeping in. He starts to walk back towards the door and before he disappears behind it, he looks back and gives me a forced smile. Then I know why he can’t come. He chose his path long ago, and I chose mine. I am still looking at where he had just disappeared when a hand gently takes mine. I look up, but have to look down quickly. His eyes are filled with love and his face so glorious I can’t even look. When I look down, I see his feet. They are scarred from his past. I gasp and look at the hand that isn’t wrapped around mine; it is scarred as well, right in the palm. Suddenly I can’t control myself and hug him. He smiles and says lovingly, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

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Shadow Stars 16 said...
Nov. 15, 2012 at 1:56 pm
This is a great story. I love the imagery. Is great how I can see what is happening without having any actuall pictures.
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