The Door

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-           Come on! Why it does not open? – he mumbled.
How repetitive and stubborn can humans be sometimes. They say that they learn from their mistakes, but generation after generation, they all fall in the same trap. Fathers had prevented their children about the door, the locked door, but both failed on the simple subject of remembering what for those would mean a turning point in their life: the end.
There, in front of the emerald door trying to open it as if his life depended on turning that handle, was a strong, young man.
James Castairs went to Urfa, Turkey, strictly for business, but after a few days there he decided to see a bit of the place. Walking around the outsides, he heard what would mean the beginning of the calling. It was his old girlfriend, calling his name, yelling completely terrified.
Something is wrong…
He walked until he reached a completely unknown place, it was not as the rest of the place. Trees were tall, vegetation took over the place as if it was a large, green bedcover that went all through. The ceiling was completely covered by the black shadow of the tree leaves, that barely let the sunshine pass. James didn’t know what to do, the yelling had stopped, maybe it was all his imagination, since she had left him he had been obsessed, in an almost insane way for her. He had dreamt of her night after night, he had cried, he had followed her… all for nothing, or actually, for getting worse, as she had left him, completely. All those nights in which, after trespassing his normal limits on drinks, he went to her house, knock the door and tried to tell her everything he felt, but he couldn’t… his love for here was all he felt.
As long as he kept on walking, the screams reappeared, but inside his head, each step stronger, but this time they were inside his head. It burnt him deep inside his mind, preventing any reasonable thought to pass.
-          ¿What’s wrong with me? – he rambled out loud, grabbing his hair with such strength, but could barely feel the hairs escaping from his head.
All he could listen was the calling of that horrible door.
He gave one more step.
Images…
They were a young couple, well, actually, friends. Clarissa, a small, red-haired inmigrant girl from England, and Idris, a boy almost twenty that had been borned and raised there, at Urfa, and knew her thanks to his father’s business, that was what had made her be there.
They had been walking together for long already, both lost in that weird place, and were worried of what people would say, 1910 was never as free as 2012, they couldn’t just… disappear both together.
-          Clary… - whispered Idris – we should try to turn around and get back.
-          Turn? Where? We are already lost, Id, we are not getting back just like… what’s that?
She turned around and stare through the woods, with a terrified expression in her face. Her mouth opened, as if there was something she needed to say, but she couldn`t…
Before Idris could even ask her anything, she left, running as if she had to save someone.
He didn’t know. Neither did her.
Clarissa run until her legs betrayed her, and she ended up face to earth, almost breaking her nose. Idris, not too far, but yet enough to help her, could saw her kneeling and sobbing as if that was the last minutes of her life.
-          Clary… - exclaimed Idris exhausted, almost hyperventilating as he wasn’t used to run – What’s going on?
-          It’s my dad… he’s yelling… but… - she muttered.
He didn’t knew what to do, she was clearly insane… she just kept on grabbing her key… and so, she stood up and limped somewhere.
He asked god that she was Ok. For a moment he wondered if he loved her, that couldn’t be… but it was too late. It was too late to not fall in love.
Then he saw it, the emerald door…
The same eyes, the same door, but there were different persons, different years.
How many times a soul should come back to avoid the same mistake? Idris, James, both had to get away or through it.
James, after leaving this images in the past where they belonged, gaze the door and took all the bravery he had left and went right to it. He went right to the door.
-          No… not this time.
He walked slowly, with his hand raised towards the lock of that door. It wasn’t an inch away when suddenly, a new image appeared.
-          Haymitch… come back…
Years later, Haymitch was already old, there were no chances for him to survived, he had been like James or Idris in his youth, but know that, as it was that for Idris too late to avoid falling in love, as it was too late for James to accept his failure, it was too late for him to… keep on.
He knew. He knew everything about that door, the only thing was what was on the other side.
He turned the lock, but nothing happened. What was going on? It should open, or he should be dead…
His son, terrified, was inspecting the situation behind him. After realizing nothing really happened, he went himself to open…
-          No!
But it was too late, once more. Haymitch fall on his knees, dead already with the venom running through his veins.
Not too late after, the same happened to his son.
James take a few steps back.
What should I do?
But the yellings began again, he couldn’t bare it. Not while I’m alive, I don’t care what kind of sourcery this is… I have to, I must, save her.
Striding towards the door, he had an idea. Haymitch wouldn’t have a key to open that door, but he had, the one his old girlfriend had given him years ago and he could never throw it away. It was the same Clarissa used to have…
Things closed as a cyrcle. Past, present and future were engaged in that door. Idris, James and Haymitch. James was, after all, the one that could change it all, and he knew how. He had to learn from his past and avoid a horrible future.
He took a deep breath, enter the key he always kept hanging from his neck, and turn it.
A sudden silence surrounded the place. An acid seemed to disintegrate all the vegetation. The desert was all there was…
And then, a sudden wind opened the door…
Good bye, Clary.
Idris, James and Haymitch, the three glared the end of their lifes with those words in mind.


N/A.: mil disculpas por el post en ingles, el tema es que hice esta historia para una tarea del colegio y me gusta demasiado y quería compartirla con quien quiera que pueda entenderla. También me disculpo con cualquier tributo/fan de CDS que lea esta historia y crea que me copie jeje. Para esos que lo lean, mil gracias, comenten! (estoy hace siglos mirando, suplicando por un nuevo comentario y es tan... frustrante no tenerlos!). Bueno, gracias por leer! y sepan que mato a quien pase sin comentar (? jajaja
CK.