|
|
|
It's scary, I tell you. Completely and utterly frightening. One moment I feel as though I'm about to bawl my eyes out, the next my hand is reaching for the door. It's not just any door I'm talking about. I'm talking about that one door that nobody likes to open, that everyone has a little bit of fear for, and that's located in a bizarre place, making it feel even more ominous.
It's location is in my basement, and well, let's just say that it's not the greatest of places to be, especially if you're a scaredycat like myself. You see, I'll jump when toast pops up and out of the toaster, nevermind when I see a scary movie. But this, this was just a little too horrible, especially for me. But, anyway, back to my story. My basement is just one of those stereotypically creepy basements with the unfinished walls, cobwebs everywhere, and just overall, just plain weird. It just makes you not want to go there. Each time I go down there, I feel as though someone's watching me, or, worse, something is watching me.
It was just Sunday night that I went downstairs to do my laundry, my head full of obscure thoughts. For one, I was thinking about what I was going to do with my summer, rather, the small part of it I had left. Second, I was also thinking about some of those more awkward moments I had experienced earlier in the day. Altogether, I couldn't focus. Not at all. So anyway, I was downstairs, piling my clothes into the washing machine when I whipped around, not realizing what I was doing.
The door was right in front of me, begging me to open it. The handle was shiny, beckoning for my touch. I know it sounds silly, but yet I was almost intrigued to open it. My feet moved automatically towards it, my hand reaching. I could feel a cold shiver along my spine then. Shaking it away, I stepped back and went back to my laundry. I didn't dare go near that door again for the rest of the night.
It wasn't until the next time I had to do the laundry that I dared thought about the door. What could lurk behind it? After all, it's just a door, I would think to myself. It had haunted me for a week, nonstop. I had lived in this measly place for just over two years, and never before recently have I ever wanted to open that door. You see, what makes matters worse, is that the building I live in is pretty old, although not old enough to be called "ancient" or anything like that. Just old, nothing more, nothing less.
I went downstairs, not wanting to see that door ever again. There was just something about it that just made it so eerie, I couldn't bear it. But yet I still remained downstairs. I turned around, slowly, from the washing machine to look at the door. It was still closed, remaining there, remaining unknown to my otherwise paranoid mind. My foot inched forward a little, my body beginning to tremble with anticipation. The only light that I had left on flickered a little, making it feel even more eerie, as it was pitch black outside. A cold wind grazed my body then, sending shivers throughout my body. Every hair felt as though it were on end; goosebumps trailed along my skin. It was then that my body flung itself forward towards the door, and only by sheer willpower was I able to stop short of touching it. My hand trembling, I reached out to touch the cold metal. And then it hit me.
It was like thousands of jackknives stabbed into my head, all simultaneously. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling exploded from within, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. I was left on the cold, hard, dusty floor, panting and in a cold sweat. It had only been a moment, but that moment was enough to scar me into never going back.
At least, not for another week or so, until my next load of laundry. I hadn't bothered telling anyone about my previous encounter, since I figured it was absolutely pathetic and completely not worthy of telling anyone about it, since it was just a lousy door. But yet, it was a door that still continued to haunt me.
I lurked back to the door once again, gazing at its ominous wonders. The wood was plain, the knob like a fancy gold-ish hue, which stood out incredibly against the otherwise dull basement. Right next to the door, on the left, were some heating equipment and various other sorts of things that I knew absolutely nothing of. So beyond the door couldn't have been like a boiler room or anything like that, and I knew that for a fact.
Somehow, I managed to touch the doorknob once again, this time my eyes sealed shut. Nothing happened, nearly shocking me. I opened my eyes slowly, first one and then the other. The door was the same, nothing had moved at all. I turned around, and everything was exactly how it was left just a moment ago. Maybe I am just paranoid.... I decided. I eased my posture a little, taking in a deep breath.
It wasn't until later that night, when I was lying in bed, that I thought about that door again. Images and ideas floated around in my mind, just making my curiosity even worse. I thought of skeletons, spiders, and then it occurred to me: what if there's nothing beyond the door? What if I'm just thinking about all of this for nothing? Jumping out of bed, I tiptoed outside. I opened the door to the basement, aware of the dark surrounding me. I clicked on the light, and crept downstairs.
The basement was as creepy as ever, but yet my daunting curiosity kept me going. I inched closer towards the door, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it. My fingers grazed the doorknob a little, testing to see if I would react to it. Thankfully, I didn't, so I proceeded to place my entire hand around the handle, and turn a little bit, the creaks feeling incredibly loud in the still silence. I opened the door, slowly but surely. The inside was dark, but I didn't dare feel around for a light. It was when I had fully stepped inside that I began to wish that I had a flashlight or my cell phone to light up the darkness this way I could really see inside. I peered around, and just when I was feeling confident enough to say that I had had my fill of it and my curiosity was sated, the door behind me slammed shut.
There was an eerie silence following for a moment, making me terrified for my life. My body trembled, and a cold feeling swept throughout my body. My arms wrapped around my torso for warmth, but there was none, nor did it feel like there was ever going to be any more. Suddenly, there was a high-pitched scream that seemed to emit from right next to me. Jumping, I tried inching back to the door, only to find that it wasn't there. All around me was total darkness, but, by the time I had fully comprehended this, I was alone in the dead silence once more. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't focus then, as what felt like a sharp entity was being trailed down my spine. My back felt warm then, but only for a moment, as it then began to feel as though liquid ice were crawling down my spine instead of the warm blood that it was. My body ached - it felt as though the gravity of the Earth had somehow increased, pressing me down onto the ground. My knees buckled beneath me, and my back seemed to no longer be able to stay upright, as I was left crouched over on the cold, hard ground.
There was a grasp upon my upper arm, the skin feeling as cold as ice and yet as hard as a stone. The fingernails, from what I was able to feel, were long and as sharp as talons, grazed upon my chest a little as the fingers themselves wrapped around my arm, pulling it away from my body. Reluctantly I let it go, too terrified to fend for myself properly. Another hand, cold as well, held my hand tightly, pulling it upward. I tried jerking my hand away a little, to get away from whatever was holding me, but its grip was firm and didn't budge, no matter how hard I pulled. The hand that was on my upper arm moved to grasp my hand that was still wrapped around my torso, pulling outward and upward. Reluctantly, I obeyed, unsure what would happen.
My legs were shaky, so I partially held onto the figure for balance, still aware that I could be seriously hurt by this figure at any moment. The hands moved from my own and up my arms, still moving to steady themselves on my shoulders, keeping me firmly locked in place. The thumbs, from what I was able to feel, were positioned so that they were pointed towards my neck, my body very sensitive and acutely aware of what was going on, as I could feel the nails just barely touching my neck. There was a warm breath on my left shoulder, followed by a hoarse shriek, although low in volume. That shriek pierced my skull, left me feeling completely shaken and torn up inside. I could feel loneliness, bitterness, hatred, and a yearning for another, all in one hoarse sound. It stopped as soon as it was started, leaving the breath on my shoulder to come out in short, harsh rasps. What the figure said next was not only startling, but yet also terrifying, as it seemed as though it was expecting me.
"You came for me," nothing more, nothing less. The sound that emitted from its mouth was scratchy, slightly squeaky, and completely cracked, which almost made it a little difficult to understand at first. I could find my voice as my mouth cracked open and closed repeatedly, as I searched for something to say. I tried pulling away slowly, but any and all attempts at it were completely erased as it just made its grip even tighter on my shoulders. I could feel a slight stab at the base of my neck from the thumbnails. The mere thought of what this creature looked like made my stomach lurch. I tried to pull away, this time with a little more force, wiggling my way out of the creature's grasp. I could feel the fingers digging into my back and shoulders, and a slight cry came out from somewhere within me, the first sound I was able to emit since coming down into the basement. The creature subsided, releasing its firm grip once I had made my cry. A tear fell down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly before it could notice as I backed away into what I hoped was the direction of the door, but, once again, it wasn't there.
At once there was a hand around my throat. It seemed so much warmer now that I had gotten a little more used to the cold. It wasn't squeezing firmly, but yet it held me in place. My hands wrapped around what would be a wrist of the creature, attempting to pull the hand away out of sheer instinct. There was the shrill cry once more, this one of audible pain. I could feel the breath this time on my face, and I could almost see a figure in front of me, but I wasn't sure if that was my imagination or if I was really seeing it.
"Stay, or bring me with you," was all I could make out from the hoarse groan. As soon as I had truly realized what it had said, it was like something had impaled me through the heart. A part of me wanted to comfort the lonely creature, the other part of me just wanted to get the hell out of there, and fast. I tried to mutter something, anything, that would get the creature to understand that I just wanted to leave, but yet I couldn't make a sound again. My mouth opened and closed several times, finally stopping when I had felt a finger placed upon my lips, quieting what would have otherwise been obscure noises if I could have made any. There was a large amount of pressure on my neck, not enclosing it, but pushing me to the side. I was rammed into the wall, my hand grazing it a little, finding the doorknob. I twisted the handle, the hand around my neck releasing me. As soon as the door was opened even slightly, all feeling of the creature that was in front of me was gone. It was like it didn't even exist. Looking around me, the basement light was still on, and everything was still. It felt as though I had spent an eternity in that creepy room, so I closed the door and dashed upstairs and back inside, only to look at the clock and see that it was only a couple of minutes that had passed since I had initially gone down. Sighing to myself, I went back to bed, vowing to myself to never do it again, nor let the memories of what had happened haunt me, even if it was my own imagination.
Alternate Ending:
[The basement was as creepy as ever, but yet my daunting curiosity kept me going. I inched closer towards the door, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it. My fingers grazed the doorknob a little, testing to see if I would react to it. Thankfully, I didn't, so I proceeded to place my entire hand around the handle, and turn a little bit, the creaks feeling incredibly loud in the still silence. I opened the door, slowly but surely. The inside was dark, but I didn't dare feel around for a light. It was when I had fully stepped inside that I began to wish that I had a flashlight or my cell phone to light up the darkness this way I could really see inside.]
I gazed about, wondering if there was anything in there. I let my eyes adjust a little to the darkness, standing there for a few moments. Once I was able to see adequately, I observed that there was nothing in that room, for it was only an empty chamber, possibly for storage. I stepped back, and closed the door, thinking for a moment about how silly I had been acting all along, thinking that something was inside there, monitoring my every movement when I went downstairs. I slumped back upstairs, and back to bed. I laid in bed for a while, staring at my ceiling, thinking about what had happened. It was just an ordinary door, in just a creepy basement. Nothing odd, nothing unusual, nothing perilous about it at all.
It was while I was lying in bed that something had occurred to me. The door was like a metaphor in so many ways. I began to wonder what the door meant, as a symbol. The door was like the daunting fear that everyone has inside, or perhaps a hidden hope. Either way, it was a portal. A portal to something, but to what, depended on the person opening it. I couldn't help but chuckle at myself then, wondering if what the door meant that what I fear is that I wouldn't have anything for me later, it would just be a room full of emptiness, just like I had found in the cellar. A part of me longed to continue pondering it, yet another part of me just really wanted to get some sleep, for my worries were over. The Door was nothing more than a door, whether it opened to a whole new world, a new realization, or perhaps nothing at all. The fact of the matter is, I had overcome my fear, and I had opened it, and that is what mattered. Nothing more, nothing less.
 Thee Alchemyst · Tue Jul 14, 2009 @ 06:30am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
