Emily Rae Robles

the paradoxymoron

The Doors (Flash Fiction: Day 9)

Prompt: Chance

The demons are especially harsh tonight.  I can feel them weighing down on my mind like anvils balancing on my sanity.  Everywhere I look, I see instruments of death: knives, scissors, razors, even forks and pencils seem threatening to me right now.  I fall on my knees and sob, but no tears come.

There are three doors.  Behind one of them lies the joy I sometimes dream of on the nights I am able to sleep. Behind the other two lie the stuff my nightmares are made of. Fate has pushed me violently to make a choice, but I am refusing, too fearful of choosing the wrong door.

Blackened remains of dried tears have hardened onto the corpses of hopes I used to have. They have piled up around my mind and try to suffocate me.  There is nothing I can do but pray.

Today is the day that the doors will open and reveal their secrets. I wait, counting the seconds as they tick away. I can do nothing else but wait.  I try to take in every detail of what is left of my sanity so I can remember it after the moment has passed.  I wait, wondering what it was like to smile.

The only sentiment I can still cling to is gratefulness.  I know I am a different person than I was before the demons came.  I know they have twisted and perverted me until I am almost unrecognizable.  However, I also know that my soul is safe.  I know that deep down I am still me, even though the demons say otherwise.

Fate is precisely on time.  She works that way.  I shiver, and the doors open.

 

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February 5, 2011 - Posted by | flash fiction, psychiatric pstories, ramblings, writings | , , , , ,

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