The rain is pouring heavily outside; I am standing by the window wondering what my weekend will be, if it wasn’t raining. There’s nothing to do inside the house, except the household chores that my mother is nagging me to do. I’m in the middle of planning my sneak out when mom interrupted my train of thoughts.

“Ana, would you mind getting the extra batteries at the attic? They might cut off the electricity when the rain falls heavily until midnight”.

I did not answer her back, I just marched down the hall to follow her orders. With mom, she won’t take no for an answer, she will push through your limits until you say yes.

It’s not yet dark, but I could feel something creepy as I went up the stairs. I turned on the lights, but it’s busted. Good thing that there is a small window that sheds light in the darkness of the attic, but still, it isn’t enough to guide me through getting the batteries. As I made my way to the small cabinet where the spare batteries are, I heard a knock on the door, the strange red door that was locked ever since we moved into the house. My mom and dad never bothered to open it, but it has always bothered me. I have forgotten about the spare batteries and directed my attention to the knocking on the door. The knocking continued and I heard the lock click.  I waited for someone to pop out of the door, but there seems to be no one on the other side. I walk toward it and turned the knob, and found out that it’s open. I peak inside and saw a hallway similar to ours. The hallway leads me to my room; I looked around and realized that it was our house after all! But there’s something strange about it. The walls have faces, so is the ceiling. They were all crying and telling me that they could feel my pain. I tried to run away, to go back to the red door to get out of this strangeness. The faces on the walls and ceilings started to chant:

 We know all your darkest dreams;

We could feel all your pain.

The pain underneath that you try to restrain.

I have nowhere to go to, I am trapped inside. More faces appeared on the wall, some of them I could recognize –mom, dad, my lying boyfriend and my sister. The chant went on and on and on that it drowned the pain inside me. It seems like the house took all my misery, I feel lighter when I went out of the red door. I locked it, along with the pain I’ve been longing to forget. After the incident, the locked door never bothered me, the way it bothered me before.

-Randolf Philip Sarino

Altruist Writer


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