The door you choose
There were three doors. One made of steel, one of wood and one of tainted glass. The timer was menacingly heading towards zero. You had to choose one door. The one you would go through not knowing what you would find. What do you choose?
Steel is reminiscent of some futuristic, science-fiction story that would evolve behind it. Not very much your style.
Wood is in a sense more romantic; more traditional in a way. But you would still not have picked that.
So you choose tainted glass. Maybe it would hide an adventure behind it, and, really, what is life if without any risks?
You open the door, careful of what would pop-out from behind. But there is nothing. At least nothing immediately obvious.
You walk into a dark cloud that engulfs you like a marshmallow.
A human figure appears out of seemingly nowhere. But you do know who they are. You’ve had a crush on them for so long. You’ve exchanged heated kisses one afternoon, and another after that, but they always said that “they were not at that place at that moment” so you could not start or even attempt a relationship. Yet, you remained stuck, thinking about them for months. Grief filled your heart. Why is it that we always want more of what we can’t have?
The figure dissolved into a poster. A white poster with three lines. They read “try to be remarkable”. The “try to” was crossed out. You instantly filled with ambition. With all the things you wanted to achieve. With all the dreams and plans that constantly swerved in your head.
As you move ahead, the cloud appears to disperse and it becomes clearer that you are in a mansion. One of the old types that used to be a castle or palace of some sort. Some wealthy estate you would guess. Pity you’re not dressed accordingly. But as soon as you look down, your jeans and t-shirt have transformed into an elegant gown, worthy of royalty. Could it be, that we could just wish things into existence?
Then you start feeling your shoes wet. You look down and see you’ve walked into a puddle. The palace dispersed into thin air and you are now outdoors, in a meadow, in the middle of a stream. You’re back in your casual outfit, and your snickers are soaking wet. You look again and they are drenched in blood. All around you lies a dark alley with aluminium dumpsters from which rats run out of. It is so dark you can hardly see anything. Your hands feel wet. But it is blood. Fear has overwhelmed you that you spin around, unwary of what will appear next. How can emotions change so rapidly? How can our own reality succumb to so many developments in an instant?
You turn and turn, until you finally roll off the bed.
You wake, still soaked in your own sweat and realise it was all a dream.
It only lasted for so much less than you thought, but it was so real, now you can’t go back to sleep without contemplating how much we miss out on by simply not seeing enough of our surroundings.
Also part of Daily Prompt: Just a Dream