The Middle Story

However, she never left the doorway that day.

Nope.

Shana Sarcova might've had every intention of leaving that instant, but that moment was a fluke; it emerged real quick, without any fundamental realization of what it meant. But, nevertheless, she sensed like she needed to leave, as to where? She didn't have the faintest idea.

So Shana took a step onto the welcome mat crossing the doorway of her life for the past 3 years. As soon as she made it across, the feeling in her legs got heavy, fastened to the earth; she wasn't going anywhere anymore. The pull from the house was more potent than the urge to suddenly flee.

This is where she belonged, where she truly craved to be; this was home. There were so many wonderful and heartfelt moments here with her family and friends, all of which she cherished. How could she step away from all of this? She couldn't.

There was nothing out there for her. What she desired or lacked was right there where she stood, in that house. Her husband and child were the core of her existence; they loved her, and she loved them more than herself; she would do anything for them. She'd persist in staying alive for them. She'd fight this disease for them.

As she stood there staring at the welcome mat, reminiscing, she struggled to somehow decode a meaning or purpose regarding her life. Questions were mounting in her head, and they wouldn't stop. What's next? What was the goal? Was she supposed to stay or go?

She gazed up at the sky, expecting, begging for an answer.

"What am I supposed to do? Please, please tell me. Something, give me something, please!"

She was struggling; it was the conception of a dark cycle of anxiety and depression. If she didn't stop herself from slipping into this lifeless abyss of despair, she might do something she might regret. This wasn't the direction Shana wanted to move towards to.

Then, finally, giving in, she slumped on her knees, her hands concealing her face and desperation.

"What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I keep it together?"

She didn't know who she was calling out to.

God? An entity? A spirit of some kind? The universe? She didn't care; she just needed someone to listen and advise her. So when there was only a soundless void that said nothing, she talked to herself.

"There's nothing wrong with me. I just need to breathe. Clear my mind of all these stupid thoughts. It's all in your head." Shana muttered, trying to convince herself.

She shut her eyes, took a deep breath in, held it dearly, and released the air languidly through her mouth. This crisis she was experiencing wasn't going to continue; she'd make damn sure of it. She might've been experiencing some uncertainty, but clarity was taking the reins.

"I'm okay. Just relax, Shana. Relax. Everything is going to be fine. We will get through this. This is just a blimp in time."

She started to open her eyes gently. As soon as she did that, she immediately noticed how pleasing and gratifying her front yard was becoming and beamed with optimism. The wildflowers had sprung nearly 4 feet high; they painted the entire right side of the lawn, reaching the sidewalk and aching to go further. Bright blue shades, electric orange buttons, and buttery yellows swinging among the wind calling for their friends to come and pay them a visit. The fuzzy red bottle brush tree was no exception. It actually hoisted itself up from the flower field, tall and dignified, eagerly anticipating the critters poking around. The bees surrounded the area buzzing, singing, searching. It was the most beautiful sound.

"Damn, it's such a perfect day."