cellophanedeity

I wrote this for a class in grade twelve and just found it. I tried to do a bit of editing, but it's difficult critiquing ones own work. I like this piece, but I'm certain it can use some work. I was hoping that the brilliant minds here in the Lit forum could help me out...

Oh, and I need a better title than "The Door" so ideas would be appreciated.



She sped down the dark corridor, instinct leading the way. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears as she slowed, seeing the vague impression of a doorknob sticking out of the otherwise flat wall. This could lead to Out. Her breath came rapidly now, unfiltered through her mouth and drying her throat. She had been running from them for an eternity now. She had been in and out of a thousand doors desperate to escape. She had been in and out of a thousand doors, all the same, yet this one was different. She had run too far for this to lead back to where she started. This could lead back to them. Oh lord. This could lead back to them.

-[+]-

“Good little girl,” one of them cooed, teeth bared viciously, “Just do as you’re told.”
Their eyes are always hidden, darkened by the shadows cast by grey hoods, and she was glad to never see. The white room and stark lighting increased the translucence of their skin as they pulled her closer to the black chair on the far edge of the empty room.

-[+]-

She could hear the men’s shoes clicking against the tile floor in the distance but growing closer, the sound clinical and precise. She stood still beside the door. Oh god, should I go through?

-[+]-

They laughed, if one could call it a laugh, as they tied her down, her body stiffening and arching against the cold metal and leather bindings. What are they going to do to me? She had watched old films where bad men had been given ‘the chair’, in some archaic society, and yet somehow she knew this would be worse than that. They slowly lowered a black metal dome over her head, her eyes flashing back and forth between the two men, pleading for a release. “Hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” one of them snickered, as she heard footsteps fall away from her, and the clicking of a door shutting behind them.

-[+]-

If I go through, and it’s Out, then I’ll be free. They won’t follow. They can’t follow. The door stood, intimidating her, teasing her. But if it’s not Out…

-[+]-

It felt like she was caught in a hurricane, filthy hair whipping across her face, stinging her screaming eyes. She could feel herself falling, pushed from the top of a skyscraper. Streams of coloured light were being pulled around her, illuminating the blackness for short moments before disappearing again. Suddenly, it felt as if she had begun to sink through deep water. As she sank further, the streams of light slowed, revealing pictures, moving in Technicolor. She knew these pictures well, images from her fondest memories, her greatest moments of happiness, her favorite dreams. They swam around her, slipping out of the black dome, and into the white room behind it.

-[+]-

Her hand reached out. If I don’t go through, They will have me anyway. They’re too close for me to run now. The steps came nearer as she placed her hand on the doorknob and turned. As the door crept open, a white light flooded the hall, blinding her.

Oh lord. This could lead back to them.

tecoyah

Good stuff Cello...I got the feeling of some alien examiners trouncing down a hall towards a shivering little girl.

Thanx...and well done

__________________
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha

J.R.V.A.

Very nice... I liked it a lot, maybe the threshold?

__________________
And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart

cellophanedeity

Hmm... The Threshold. That's much better than The Door.

Good advice.

Thanks a lot you two!