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Floating Door

Jakarta

My sleep was disturbed by a familiar sound in my ear. The eyelids slowly opened, squinting in the glare of the sun. I rolled over and sat back against the tree trunk. Not far from where I had been lying was the source of the gurgling I heard. The water flowing from the rock crevice fell into the mossy ditch. Birds chirping could be heard overhead. I got up, along the ditch that cut through the meadow.

The further you walk, the more you see. Wildflowers of various colors flourished in the bushes I passed. The clouds drifted like cotton balls, a stark contrast against the blue sky. The golden ball is now rising high. The sting made beads of sweat appear on my forehead and temples. Strangely, I didn’t feel tired. Even want to stay here forever. But that’s impossible. I have something to do.

As if he could read minds, the scenery around him changed. The meadow is gone. The sky is no longer clear. Rock mounds as far as the eye can see. The wind blew against my face, making me short of breath. The soles of the shoes leave traces in the sand. Suddenly I was very tired. Not wanting to stop, I bit my lip and forced myself forward on shaky knees.

The desert is gone. Even though it was pitch black above, below, and all around, it was clear to see a door floating a few inches from the floor. I took one step at a time until I stood in front of her, like an actress on a stage with an invisible audience.

The wooden door was frameless and there was nothing unusual about it other than the fact that it was in mid-air. I reached out to ignore my inner voice that forbids me. Before my fingertips touched the doorknob, something jerked me back.

***

Coughing, I lifted my body from the position lying on the sofa.

“Water,” I gasped.

Someone got up from the chair. I greeted the object and then emphasized the contents for a moment. The woman took the empty glass from my hand. Even without words, his attitude made me bleed. Shiny eyes.

“I’m trying! I’m trying to open the door and something is pulling me away!”

The psychiatrist put the glass back in its place. He looked at me with a tired smile.

“It’s your subconscious. This therapy is useless as long as you can’t handle it.”

“Sorry for wasting your time!” I shouted angrily as I headed for the exit.

He’s blocking my way.

“Sit down,” he ordered, “you know that’s not what I mean.”

I flinched. The woman walked to the desk. After writing, he held out a piece of paper to me.

“We’ll try again next week. I’ll prescribe you a sedative for the time being.”

Paper accepted and left the practice room without saying goodbye. I pushed the glass door without heeding the greeting of the receptionist. The orange color of the sky welcomes. The sun’s rays began to dim over the puddle of water near the ditch.

I crumpled up the recipe paper and threw it in the trash. All the medicine from him was completely useless. With my hands in my pockets, I stood on the sidewalk and stopped the first taxi.

Through the rearview mirror, the driver looked at me in the back seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Just go ahead. I’ll tell you later.”

The man behind the wheel drives the vehicle. He didn’t ask again even though five minutes had passed and I still hadn’t told him where I was going. Maybe he’s used to getting weird passengers like me. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Tired of crawling every joint of the body. Don’t want to go home. I hate being alone. At those times he always appears….

It was dark outside when I awoke. The street lamps flashed, their glow illuminating the nearby shops. I told the driver to stop under a colorful billboard before the bend. The number on the taxi meter made me wince. Five minutes later I was standing opposite the girl at the counter, the remaining money was enough to buy a movie ticket.

Lights out. The opening scene appears on the screen. Sitting motionless among laughter, I was lonely. The five senses do not feel anything. Numb. Blunt. I am like a fish in an aquarium, trapped in a glass room. Completely separated from the outside world. Unable to take it any longer, I got up and pushed my way through the rows of seats followed by the protests of the disturbed crowd.

The girl at the counter turned when she heard the door open. Surprised to see me out before the film was over for a moment then returned to staring at the phone in hand. The hands of my watch overlapped at twelve. It’s midnight and I don’t have the money to go anywhere else, but any place would be better than staying here.

I walked at a leisurely pace, past the trellis shops and the one or two that were still open with the shopkeepers nodding off.

“Hey, wait!”

Someone shouted from behind. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a tall man throwing a lit cigarette butt to the ground and crushing it with the toe of his shoe. His body was illuminated by the light, making the man look like a saint. I ignored the call and accelerated the leg swing. He took long strides ahead, blocking my path.

“I’m talking to you, miss.”

“I don’t know you. Get out of the way!”

“No need to be rude,” he smirked, “I just wanted to help.”

“I don’t need help,” I hissed coldly as I walked past him.

“What about the door?”

I stopped abruptly, turned around, and stared intently.

“What do you mean?”

The man walked away without answering. I rushed to catch up.

“Who are you?”

“A friend,” he mumbled with the cigarette tucked to his lips.

“You know what’s behind that door?” I asked pounding.

The questioner nodded.

“Show me!”

He stopped walking, took an unlit cigarette from his lip and put it in his pocket.

“Okay. But you have to be prepared for what you’re about to see.”

I nodded.

As soon as his finger touched my shoulder, the surroundings faded and began to spin. I’m flying. Movements that were slow at first grew faster and faster. My vision is dim. The contents of the stomach churned and squeezed out. I tried my best to hold back the urge to vomit while closing my eyes tightly. It felt like a century before the sole of the foot stepped on a solid object.

“Had reached.”

I’m afraid to open my eyes. The first thing he saw was a bed with pink sheets, a white blanket neatly folded at the bottom. Dumbfounded, I looked around. Dressing table with heart-shaped mirror upright on the side of the wardrobe.

“This is my room,” I mumbled like a dream.

“Of course. It all starts here.”

Ignoring my astonished gaze, the man pressed his palms against the wall. My eyes widen as the part of the wall I touched disappears, leaving a passable hole.

“Come on,” he said, leading in.

I returned to the last place in the therapy session, except this time I wasn’t alone. I stared at the floating door I failed to open. By hardening my heart, I managed to overcome the doubts to move forward. When I reached out my hand to the handle, the man did the same. Together we pushed the door open.

My eyes almost closed in the blinding light. Reflex, hands raised to protect. The sudden exposure to light in the net made me unable to see anything. As I stood still, I felt the man approaching.

“Walk towards that light,” he whispers in my ear.

And my feet began to move without my command.

***

Voice….

Shadow….

I struggled through the fog that enveloped the mind, reaching for the faintly caught. Gradually, what was originally a buzz and a shadow turned into words and faces. I’m in the white room.

“He’s unstable! You should take care of him!”

The woman in the chair looked at me.

“Oh, he’s awake.”

He got up and hurried over, leaving the man he had just spoken to.

“How are you feeling, son?”

“Where am I?” I asked hoarsely.

“In the hospital. They pump your stomach.”

His tone turned sad.

“Why did you do that, Elsa?”

Before being able to digest what happened, the man approached me who was lying on the bed with wide steps. My shoulders were gripped by both hands.

“Where did those pills come from?!”

I swallow saliva. Even though I’m afraid of Dad, I’m more afraid of the red eyes watching from the corner of the room.

Daisy Rahmi born in Manado. His works have been published in various mass media. Now living in Jakarta

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