Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Door


The Door made its presence known on a perfect day. It was mother’s 40th birthday and she expected a grand celebration. Nothing could take the focus away from mother, except for the Door maybe. Perhaps, it was that sadistic streak which made the Door appear on that eventful summer morning.

Father, I and Bren woke up early, we ran to Mrs. Tully, our neighbor, and sneaked the cake inside our house. Of course we couldn’t have hidden mother’s 40th birthday cake in our refrigerator; she would have known. We decorated the cake with candles; none of us would dare put all 40 candles, so we settled for 20, and wrote, “20 in every which way”. That should cheer mother up.

We arranged the living room with balloons and stars. And when we were ready, father brought a groggy mother out into the living room. I say groggy because apparently mother was being naughty at 40 last night.

As expected, mother was absolutely delighted, soon her delight turned into surprise, shock and mortification. And she kept staring at me.

Okay that was creepy, but then I saw father and Bren also staring at me the same way, until I realized they were staring at something behind me. My mind ran a list of things that could possibly be standing there, from man eating lions to killer clowns from outer space, from Emily Rose to the Wicked Witch of the west, from Ted Bundy to Freddy.

“Mishka, honey why don’t you come over here?” Mother finally spoke, and implored with her stretched hands. Yes, that sounded like a good plan, to turn around while I was standing there in the safe circle of my family. I ran to mother, and looked.

It was inconspicuous, it was inconsequential to my vivid expectations, it was a door. A door that was never there for the last 15 years that I had lived in that house and in this world. It just stood there innocent, a brown polished door that could only be opened from the other side.

Instantly “The Door” became a smash hit in our neighborhood, perhaps more of a hit than its namesake band. People from across the neighborhood and our extended family came to visit, and ruminate over the Door.

There were theories, some sane, some insane. Uncle Martin felt, that the Door was a gateway to hell, and the Devil chose our home for it, since we have not attended the Sunday mass in the last 5 years. Of course, mother then ranted on about the benefits of embracing Scientology as a religion. When Tom Cruise doesn’t have a gateway to hell in his mansion, why should we? What can I say, the argument seemed legitimate!

Mrs. Tully, felt that the Door led to the garden outside, our family, along with 100 other people just cant see it.
My friends and I thought that the Door was a wormhole and should it open; the entire world would get sucked into it.

Bren, expected zombies infected with the T-Virus to walk in through the door; and that’s why he always armed himself with his baseball bat.

People tried breaking down the door, and the wall around it. Even a wrecking ball couldn’t touch the Door. Finally, we gave up and as months went by and nothing went in or came out of the Door, it became business as usual and we started ignoring it.

Life went on, until one summer evening. After a year of ignoring the newest member of our household, The Door, it happened. I reached home that evening, only to be welcomed by mother’s excited chattering.
“It opened, Mishka. It opened.” What?!! Finally the Door opens.

I ran inside and mother followed. I saw father, Bren and Mishka standing there near the Door. Wait, Mishka? I was Mishka. But she looked just like me. My stomach sank and I slowly turned around to see the bodies of my real Mother, Father and Bren lying near the dining area. Mother or that woman who looked like mother, spoke with a wide evil grin on her face, “You are next.”

The Door shimmered out of existence.



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