I was running in my dream. Sweating. I thinking i was running from something, someone, but i found myself grabbing and gasping in my room, laying awake.. My sheets were soaked in my sweat and the room loomed slanted in the darkness. The dream was already slipping away. I felt sick. I was going to call for my mother, but my throat was dry, like sand would spill out. Then i was coughing, silently.
That was when i saw it actually, staring back at me in the darkness the whole time like it was meant to be there. It wasn’t an extraordinary door, it didn’t glow and it didn’t whisper or talk. It just stood there in the dim light of my room, me coughing up sand.
I climbed out of my bed, careful not to knock into any furniture, somehow i felt like i’d awaken something with any noise i’d make. The knob was a bronze color and it gloomed in the darkness. I looked back around, scanning the room. Maybe i was looking for who put this thing here, but there was only me, and it. I reached out for the knob, like any child, and it turned before i could put a wet finger on it.
It twisted and slowly and silently pressed open. Inside the tiny, quiet crack in the door there was darkness. Darkness that was thicker than the bright shade in my room. I could feel my knees shaking, in the involuntary way, and my throat was dry and probabaly chapped, but i pressed the frame, with a finger, quick. Then i stepped back. THe slab of darkness, slit in my room by the door, stretched, and soon the thickness was a whole frame. I stood there, watching, listening, for anything but