The Door…

I am in a black hole.

It’s dark and quiet.

I’m alone.

I sit and watch as all of the good memories of my life flash before me and then burn in a ferocious fire.

There’s nothing I can do. I can’t cry. I can’t even frown.

I’m frozen. Paralyzed. Unable to move.

For every memory that burns into the air, I feel a stab of sheer agony through my heart.

I notice in the distance, another set of memories flashing. I look to them and see that it is every last one of the darkest and most horrific memories of my life.

I’m still paralyzed. I can’t even close my eyes. But this time I am able to feel the most depressing sorrow anyone has ever felt. I don’t want to see this. Or feel this.

So I look the other way and see my memories of myself with my family and friends and children disappearing into ashes. And then immediately after, the sword in my heart. I still cannot react and I am still alone. And I feel the pain.

Both directions of sight are terrifying and I don’t want either in my view.

I notice behind me there is a beautiful door. Surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. I can hear children laughing and birds singing. It is such a bright and beautiful white door. I am drawn to it.

Though paralyzed and unable to move or react, when I look towards this door, I am filled with a sense of peace, warmth, comfort and love.

I look back to the memories. I can’t take it anymore.

I can choose to watch the best memories of my life burn into nothing and then feel as though my heart has been pierced, or I can watch all of the worst parts of my life magnified but feel no pain, only depression and sorrow and guilt.

But then there’s the door. I have no choice but to go to it. I can walk towards it. It’s the only way I can go. The only way I can move. I have all of my feeling back. I am rushing towards the door. It’s beautiful and I can feel the warmth and happiness as I get closer to it.

I stand in front of the door. Exhausted. Tired. But happy I am no longer seeing all of those memories, both beautiful and haunting. I’m happy. I feel no pain.

There is a small sign hanging on the door. I read it. And then I begin to sob.

I look over my shoulder at the memories, then I turn back, open the door and walk through; and know that I am finally home.

The sign on the door reads “DEATH”

Author: Autumn Delaney

A screwed up girl in an even more screwed up world...

6 thoughts on “The Door…”

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