The Door
I turned sharply and saw the door half-open. I stared. I always, always took care to close the door – I wasn’t allowed to lock it – as tightly as I could. Now there it stood, cutting across the emptiness of my room.
My room.
I own it and no one can trespass.
Except, now, the door was doing exactly that.
It stood there in a sneering, challenging way, in its green pallor, daring me to try and close it. I felt panicky. How dare it.
I knew, despite seven turbulent years of science education about non-living things, that the door had opened itself of its own accord. There was no one else in the two-room house. They were out, as they were most of the time. It couldn’t have been the wind – the day was cold, bright, and dry.
I decided that the door had to close. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping I was just imagining it, and prayed hard, hoping it would close… hoping to hear its wooden creak… nothing. I opened my eyes. The door still stood open, exactly as it had stood before.
Revealing.
If that door was open I was open to the world – and I panicked at the thought that everyone could see me. I could hear them screaming in my ears- we’ve got you now! You thought you’d hide from us, did you? Well, we’ve seen you! Seen you! Seen you! The words rang in my head.
No. They can’t see me. Can never.
I tried to convince myself.
But the voices were getting louder now.
More insistent.
Like there were people somewhere in the house, rehearsing what they would say when they saw me…
I realized I was still staring at the door, with my mouth half-open. I had to do something, something… that door had to close. I was sitting on the bare floor of my empty room. I tried to get up, but found I couldn’t move my hands.
The door was open, I was rooted to the place, there was nothing I could do about any of it.
I was more vulnerable than I’d ever been in all my life.
Paranoia gripped me.
For how long I sat there I do not remember. I only remember that at last, with all the energy I’d ever had, I crawled to the door, slammed it shut, locked it, and in my last moment of life, shouted, “Safe!”
-Saras Mishra
Kunal Goel says:
Welcome to the blog saras. It’s an excellent story. I hope to read more stories by you.
March 2nd, 2006 at 11:54 am
Saras Mishra says:
Thank you
March 2nd, 2006 at 01:04 pm
Anusha says:
Wow! Saras you’re a genius!
March 2nd, 2006 at 09:20 pm
mark says:
“safe!” - after all that she thought she was safe?!?!
hmmmm . . . i’m disappointed. i think that safe would be the door coming off its hinges, the plaster in the walls beginning to crack and disintegrate; the cold, bright, dryness of the day coming to life in each minute speck of matter cascading, opening, an incomprehensible number of passages to the unknown, understanding.
but i guess you can stay in the room if you want and keep your delusion of control.
March 3rd, 2006 at 06:02 am
Devendra says:
Yeah we are all safe as long as door is closed on the word.
If one doesnt have a web page nobody can think of defacing it. I suppose that is safe.
If you dont connect to internet. you can be safe from all the spy and malacious softwares.
Is that safety ?
May be we all are safe if others are not able to read our minds, all the vile all the malice, jealousies, desires locked up inside away from prying eyes that can lay us bare.
Nice Thoughts
Devendra the Devil’s will
March 3rd, 2006 at 04:23 pm
Neha says:
excellent work!
March 3rd, 2006 at 06:40 pm
Saras Mishra says:
Maybe this mind has none of the commonplace ‘malice, jealousies, desires’. Maybe this mind just has a fear of disclosure.
March 3rd, 2006 at 07:57 pm
Neha says:
well then your mind is not alone. or maybe thats the whole point…
March 4th, 2006 at 12:15 am
Neha Mujumdar says:
Its a good story. I liked it. Who’s this Saras Kunal?
March 4th, 2006 at 10:57 am
Kunal Goel says:
I don’t know saras, he/she mailed me this story.
March 4th, 2006 at 01:51 pm