The
Door
by
Holly Catanzarita
(owned, written and copyrighted by Holly Catanzarita,
used by permission)
“Why am I here?” the boy cried out in anguish to the dark.
The
watcher -- an imposing, great and fierce dog, prowled about the steel door
ready to do battle. The watcher’s broad head swung toward the boy. It
bared its razor-sharp teeth. A low, menacing growl spewed deep from within
its throat. Drool dripped from its jaw as it crouched on thick legs ready
to spring.
They did
not like it when he asked questions. It was not allowed.
The boy’s
lower lip quivered. He stared at the steel door wondering what was hidden
behind it. The only thing he could see was a door, and the monsters. Is
it a way out? Is that why the creatures guard it? If I went
through, it might be worse than this. But he didn’t like it here. It
was a bad place full of monsters and he was scared.
“Have I
always been here?” the boy asked, taking a chance the watcher might eat him
with its big, sharp teeth. Time passed without record and it seemed to him
like he had suffered a lifetime in this place.
The
watcher pounced and snapped at the air in front of him. Long strings of
drool hanging from its lower jaw fell across the boys small chest. It
cooked his skin like an iron set on high heat and held against his tender
flesh. Tears flooded his eyes, but he didn’t utter a sound. That would be
breaking the rules.
The
watcher’s raw snout was inches from his face. Threatening, black, glassy
eyes stared into his, daring him to move. He sat perfectly still and tried
not to shake, or even breathe.
Never question me.
Better learn your lesson, boy.
***
“Don’t ever question me, boy,”
Dan said. His knuckles turned white as his hand tightened into a fist.
“I’m
sor-ry,” James said. His chin resting on his chest, his eyes lowered, he
stared at the floor. Much like a dog with its tail between its legs, James
stood defeated, afraid to look up.
“You’re
gonna learn that fuckin’ lesson one day! I’ll see to it!” Dan yelled and
slapped James across the face.
***
The watcher growled a final
warning then retreated back to the door. The boy still did not
move. I’m not suppose to. Really bad things happen when I try
and run away. All the boy could do was stare at the door and
wonder. He tried to open the door once and paid the price for his actions.
The things keeping guard stopped him before he could reach it. They would
not let him escape; they wanted to keep him here. He had a lesson to
learn.
The
monster guards came and went, always different when they appeared again.
But they never left him alone...never.
Sometimes
the guardian was a gargoyle that snapped and shrieked at him. Sometimes it
was a leathery beast with moldy skin and glowing, yellow reptilian eyes.
Other times, smaller creatures were enlisted to watch over him; winged
roaches skittered across the soft, gushing walls and flew through the air,
while oversized rats ran across the slimy floor and nipped hungrily at his
toes. He never knew what would appear next to keep him prisoner.
A
constant was the wispy shadows that floated through the air. They stole his
thoughts and whispered things to him. The shadows all talked at once
becoming a constant drone of noise. He tried to block their voices but they
invaded, screamed, forced him to hear the bad things.
The door
glowed, bathing the boy’s small, naked body with a reddish light like a
lighthouse beam in a storm to lead the way home. He felt it call to him,
wanting him to open it and leave this place behind. He sat cross-legged in
the center of the slimy floor, his chin resting in his hands and looked at
the steel door always guarded by the watcher. He knew they would not let
him escape from the prison in which he was held, but inner thoughts of
escaping betrayed him.
He was
punished for his thoughts.
A large,
bloated, transparent spider swooped down from the ceiling. Its body
expanded and pulsed as it ran toward him. The spider hissed savagely then
began to crawl up his thin leg. When he felt the first of the appendages
touch his skin, his unbound terror erupted and he screamed. “I’m sorry! I
won’t do it again! I’ve learned the lesson!”
The
spider disappeared, leaving him with his fear as a reminder.
***
Yanked
forcefully out of his bed, James’ eyes snapped open. Held in the air by his
pajama top, a startled whimper escaped his lips.
“What is
this!” Dan screamed. He held a blue baseball cap in front of James’ face.
“What the hell is this!” Dan yelled and slapped him across the face with the
cap.
James
held his breath and tried not to cry. “My cap,” he answered in a small
voice.
“What did
I tell you about leavin’ your shit lying all over the place!” Dan yelled and
slapped him again with the cap.
James
felt his eyes flooding with tears. Don’t cry. It only gets worse
if you cry. “I didn’t,” he whispered. He knew where he had left
the cap. It was on top of his dresser, where it belonged.
“Don’t
back-talk me, boy!” Dan said and dropped him to the floor. He whipped his
belt off and popped it. “You’ll learn the lesson even if I have to beat it
into you.”
“Please
don’t, I’ve learned the lesson. I won’t do it again,” James cried. He laid
in a fetal position on the floor, his hands protecting his body as the belt
lashed across his skin.
***
The boy
remembered the door opened once, only a crack. He tried to reach it, tried
to escape to whatever was behind it, but the door slammed shut, keeping him
trapped.
The
punisher came then. A misty, dark shadow. A shadow blacker than the
darkest night towered above him. Frightened, the boy cried out, his limbs
shaking in pure terror. The shadow laughed sardonically as if it embraced
the fear radiating from its captive.
Out of
all the things keeping guard, the punisher terrified him the most. Something
almost familiar about the shadow lurked in the back of his mind; secret
things. Then he knew what it was; the punisher taught the lessons and
brought the pain. His naked body shuddered and began to flop around on the
slick floor like a fish out of water as the assault started. An invisible
whip lashed out at his tender flesh, opening up long streaks of red hot pain
across his body.
The boy
couldn’t scream, he couldn’t tell, or there would be more pain. He held his
hands tight against his mouth, his teeth jabbing into his palms to stop the
screams. He did well, he didn’t make a sound and he did not try to run
away. The lesson ended and the punisher vanished.
The boy
laid on the slimy floor in a fetal position, his hands still across his
mouth, trying to stop the sobs racking his body. Some time later, he lifted
himself into a sitting position. He glanced at the door then quickly closed
his eyes, squeezing out the last of the tears. Can’t look at the door
and pretend I can run away, it only brings more pain.
Behind
his eyelids, like a streak of lightening illuminating the dark sky, a
picture of a man flashed quickly through his memories. An uncontrollable
tremor started in his toes and worked its way up his body. His arms wrapped
around himself, he rocked back and forth. A soft moan escaped through
quivering lips.
***
James was
scared. He had to run away. Run away and never come back. Then he could
call his mama and tell her to get out of the house and not talk to Dan ever
again because he was gonna hurt her. Dan threatened to kill her if James
told. Being very quiet as he sneaked around his bedroom, James packed some
clothes in his backpack. He looked at the shredded remains of his baseball
cap Dan had cut to pieces. It was his favorite. His daddy had given it to
him before he died and it was all he had left as a reminder. James picked up
the pieces of the cap and placed them in his pack. He was ready. He took one
last look at his bedroom then climbed through the open window. He almost
made it. . .
***
The boy
heard a voice. It was a voice separate from the jumble of others. It spoke
directly to him and called him by a name; James. He wondered how the voice
knew this was his name, when he himself had forgotten it.
“Hello,
James,” the voice said.
“Hi,” he
whispered, trying not to attract the watcher’s attention.
“Open the
door, James.”
“I
can’t,” he replied and searched for the source of the voice.
“Try.”
“I
can’t,” he whined. He wrapped his arms around his legs tighter and rocked.
The voices of the wispy shadows became louder for a moment, crawling over
him. “Stop, please stop,” the boy begged, holding his head in his hands. He
didn’t like what the voices said. They were always telling him to do bad
things; things that brought the punisher.
The
voices became quieter, back to a constant drone.
“James,
open the door, Go through it and escape. It’s better on the other side.
There’s no guards there. You’ll be free from the monsters.”
“I can’t.
I tried once. I was punished for not remembering the lesson.”
“The
punisher is not teaching you, James. There’s no lesson to be learned. The
punisher hurts you for his own pleasure. You didn't try hard enough to
escape. Stand up, James. Go to the door. Now! Do it now!”
James
rose and stood on trembling legs.
Low on
its haunches, the watcher’s head swung back and forth ferociously as the
menacing growl grew in volume. Then a second one appeared and joined the
first.
He
stepped back, afraid; always afraid.
“Don’t be
scared, James. You can do this. Fight the guards. Free yourself.”
The
multitude of voices escalated, screaming at him.
“They’ll
eat you---”
“You’re
trapped---”
“You’ll
always be here---”
“Always
-- Always -- Always---”
“Don’t
listen to them!” the voice screamed. “You can free yourself!”
“Where
are you?” he asked. He turned in a slow circle. “Are you one of the
shadows?”
“I’m
here. I’m always here, trapped with you.”
“Why
don’t you go through the door?”
“I can’t.
Only you can open the door for us, James.”
“No. The
punisher will come.”
“Not if
you don’t let it happen. You can control it.”
“I don’t
understand,” he whimpered. How? I don’t know how. “I’m afraid.”
“You let
fear rule you, James. Take a step, then another until you reach the door.
Fight the guards.”
James
wanted to fight, wanted to be free, but he was frightened. He stood
undecided for a moment and looked at the door. It seemed so far away.
“Find
your courage, James. You’re just hiding out in here. You escaped into this
place, trying to run away and hide from the pain. Now you’re afraid to
leave because you let your fears hold you here.”
He dug
deep, searching for the courage. Was it in him? Could he find it?
Suddenly
an angelic face appeared on the door. Bleak, teary eyes looked into his. A
soft, trembling voice cried. “Come back to me, James. Please come back to
me,” she said.
James
felt a twinkling of recognition. It was a nice face and it didn’t scare
him. A word came to mind to go with the face he saw. “Mama,” he whispered.
James took a step forward before fear stopped his advance.
The
watcher growled.
The dark,
menacing shadow appeared, lashing out at him. “Tryin’ to run away and tell
mommy? You’ll learn the lesson, boy! Even if I have to kill you!”
Tears
flowed down James’ face as he hunched over and tried to protect his body
with his hands. He felt familiar pain surface, biting into his skin.
“Fight
him, James. It’s all up to you. Make him leave you alone,” the voice
yelled. “Don’t let him hurt you any more!”
James
lowered his hands. He stood up straight, pulled his small shoulders back,
and faced the punisher. The punisher came into focus. The black shadow was
replaced by a man. A movie projector turned on in his head, flashing images
across the screen of his memories.
James now
knew the punisher. It was Dan, his Mama’s boyfriend. Dan got drunk all the
time and beat him. He remembered everything now. His Mama worked the
night-shift and Dan babysat him while she was away. That’s when he did the
bad stuff. Dan was always nice when his Mama was home and never got drunk.
He wanted to tell his Mama what Dan was doing, but Dan said he would kill
her if James told. He was scared and tried to run away, he didn’t want his
mama to die. But Dan caught him trying to escape.
“Dan
choked me. He tried to kill me.”
“That’s
when you went away,” the voice said. “That’s when you escaped into your own
mind to hide, but your fears hid in here with you.”
With
every bit of will he could gather, James fought the punisher. “No!” he
screamed. His hands tightened into fists. His arms flailing about, he
attacked. “I won’t let you hurt me or Mama again! Never again!” he yelled,
punching the punisher over and over.
The
punisher evaporated.
“Now, go
to her!” the voice yelled. “Open the door and leave this place!”
James ran
toward the door. He stopped with a jerk, his feet skidding to a stop on the
slimy floor. The watcher bared its sharp teeth and growled a warning.
“Don’t
let it stop you, James. These are your own private fears.
You can make them go away if you try
hard enough.”
James
reached toward the doors handle. The watcher snapped at his arm. Holding his
arm steady, his voice low and strong, he said, “I’m not afraid of you.” The
watcher hung its head and whined. James erupted in boyish laughter. “I’m
not afraid!”
He
touched the door’s handle. The glow within it radiate in his hand. He
turned the handle and pulled the door open. The soft glow of light encased
his body.
“Step
through the door, James, and go back into your life. Tell Mama everything
so Dan can be stopped forever. And don’t be afraid. Never be afraid to
tell.”
“What’s
on the other side of the door?” he asked.
“You have
a life to live on the other side. You are on the other side, James.
James
smiled for the first time in a long while. He stepped halfway through the
opening. He stopped and looked back into the prison in which he’d been held
captive.
“Who are
you?” he asked the voice.
“I am
you, James. I am you.”
End
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