Flash Fiction: The Door

Posted on 02/04/2023 by Pisaries Creator

This is based on a few dreams I had and my thoughts about reincarnation.

I have wandered these halls, back and forth, for hours, not sure what door to open next. I have been roaming these white halls as if was some kind of punishment for what I have done in past lives. All the doors that opened to me, so far, were gateways to misery and bad companionship. I thought I wouldn’t make the same mistakes but here I was before another door, the color not important at the moment, and wondering what danger was behind it. For I have made many mistakes, and this was my attempt to right the wrongs. The more I lived my days and nights, I seemed to come closer to the realization my time had passed for any kind of change, for any kind of forgiveness. What I thought to be my reason to exist had really ended a long time ago, over 15 years ago, and now I found myself living in a fairy tale. It was one I had woven for myself, somewhere between riding a mystical beast and yearning for something other than being human. The last door I had opened was full of promise and excitement. I was happy there. The smile on my face never went away, but the happiness did not last long.

The previous door had been made all pretty like on the outside. When I stepped inside, I knew a mistake had been made. The innocence I once had was all lost and I found myself loving someone who wasn’t right for me. I didn’t know what to do with this emotion. His charming smile and kind nature of his touch made me desire him. He was unaware how attracted I was to him until one day we were alone. He took the opportunity to lean into me and kiss my cheek. He couldn’t have been more intoxiating. His smell made me unable to concentrate and my stomach felt as if I had eaten too much candy. His face reminded me of my first schoolboy crush. He climbed the rope with such skill. I practiced when no one was alone to climb the rope like he did except he never looked in my direction when I reached the top. My desire for him to hold my hand during recess was never an option. I blame him for wanting more from the next boy I met. After that kiss, my knees buckled, and I almost fell. He was mysterious and did nothing to show me his true nature. He was still and quiet in his strength. I wanted nothing more than freedom to express myself without shame.

At the same time, we looked at each other, some force pulled me away and I was unable to fulfill my desires. I never saw him again until I entered another door years later. This time he had changed his appearance, but I knew it was him. He had the same haircut even though it was longer on the sides. I sensed his passion for loving someone as if it was the last day of his life, except the person he cared for wasn’t me this time. His attention was on another woman. He never noticed me. I was with the other wallflowers, every one of them wanting a man to take a chance on her. I don’t recall how we got there, if we were even invited, and the mood was somber. I eventually left and walked to the bus stop. As I paid the fee, I didn’t know this was the beginning of a new life, one that had profound surprises. Nothing I expected to happen did and so another door closed on me. There was nothing to fear because the next door opened to a room full of light. This was the promise I was given: I never had to question my worth again and he never would tell me how he felt because every night he showed me how special I was with a hug or kiss. I thought my skin would melt.

When the time came for me to stand up to him, to tell him how I really felt, I couldn’t because I wanted him to be a part of me and me be a larger part of him. This might not the right words to speak of our relationship, none of this is eloquent, but our time together consumed us on our journey. Our tangled arms and legs were our story. Time does a funny thing to the blind. It seems after a short period all was forgotten by us. Lives get lost again and again, barely to be discovered. People die. People live. People are born again. We keep meeting each other behind doors. I don’t know how it will end except there must be an end to all this madness soon.