The Sinkhole

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I thought I'd try my hand at a short story this time :)

Enjoy!

Submitted: October 14, 2014

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Submitted: October 14, 2014

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The Sinkhole

Doorways can be or represent many things; the front of your house or a way out of a place you’d rather not be.
Those last few minutes before you miss that one important train or perhaps the seizing of a moment.

For me it’s different, I have an irrational fear of doorways.
And not doorways in the metaphorical sense, the physical hinged ones that are mostly made out of wood.
Don’t ask me why because I can’t tell you…or perhaps won’t, I haven’t decided yet.
But I could tell you my name, if you want know.
Well I’ll tell you anyway; Its Ducky, Yes it’s actually a nickname as you probably guessed.
Who am I kidding?...no it’s not, my parents actually did called me Ducky.
Maybe because they thought I would get on well with animals more than I do humans, or because I’m constantly pouting, I honestly have no idea but I’m sure they had their reasons when I was born.
So yes Doorways, they terrify me.
Before you ask: yes, I am seeing a therapist…I’m not crazy you understand, for me this is real.
I guess it must have started when I was 10, when I was a child I used to have this recurring nightmare that freaked me out so much I even gave it a name; ‘The Sinkhole’.
It started harmlessly enough; just me sat alone in my garden watching the clouds when all of a sudden the sky would start to rumble and darken and my garden shed would start to move and warp as if it was growing towards me.
Next the door would fly open with a bang revealing a moving, rippling sea of darkness.
I would clutch at the ground in terror only to find the grass dissolving in my hands, the ground would then start to push me towards my dark, warbling garden shed.
I would struggle to get away but damp, earthy hands would burst from the ground and clamp themselves over my arms and legs refusing my escape.
Then almost all at once I would be sucked in, and the moment I hit the cold, black fog was when I would wake up.
I’ve never been near that shed since, but I am trying.
I think I’ve finally made that decision…I’m 31 after all.
Today I’m going to take the first step to a normal life and I’m going to open that shed door.

 


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