Viral door

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

No one ever told me why. The cellar downstairs, locked away at the end of the narrow hallway, had always been off-limits since I was a little girl. The beautiful oak door always caught my eye, the golden lock gave a shine from the moons reflection , as if something so special and precious was on the other side. Every time i walked by, curiosity crept up my spine.

But tonight, they left me alone in the house. The rain pouring down outside, tapping against the windows, and my parents had gone out hours ago. My mind remained wondering, staring at the key rack on my dad’s dresser. I had never been disobedient to my parents before.

Angel on one shoulder, devil on the other.

I knew the rules, my father said behind the door was only for important work. He warned me I would not survive behind the door because of the thickness of dust and I have a severe dust allergy. That always was enough to keep me away. My father’s firm voice saying, “It’s for your own good health.” But something in my gut didn’t believe him, more bravery I had than fear. What was so dangerous behind that door? If it was dust my parents would’ve cleaned it?

I stood there staring at the door. I grabbed an N95 mask and stuck the key into the golden lock. My hands trembling. The knob was unusually cold. I heard a noise from the other side, a creepy whisper, like someone crying out my name.

My heart raced, but before i knew it, I turned the knob.

The door slowly opened.

What was I thinking? Do I trust my gut? I saw dark eyes not far away.

The door slammed shut behind me.

All of a sudden I felt at peace, as if it was the first time I was where I belong.