Through the Door

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She leaped into the main door, ready to face whatever awaited her behind the clouds of mist that circled the entrance. Alexandera floated about in the stilled air. Watching, waiting, for something to happen.
A scream of pure insanity rang throughout the room. Alexandera covered her ears but her hands did not shelter her precious hearing. The laughter of a child followed the sickly screech. So sweet to hear human sounds yet so sick. It made her gag. How long had been it been since she was awake and kissing her sister for the night? Where did that little girl go? Alexandera pounded her head with all these questions searching desperately for answers as she floated through mid-air. Why her? Why here? Why now? Suddenly she was pulled into a wave of sleep and nothing else was to be seen.
The girl woke up in a theater. Images of her mother flashed onto the screen. She was smiling, but she was younger than her aged self. Alexandera starched out in her seat and focused on the screen.
The next scene shown was her, only six years old. She was hovering over the tallest tower she had ever made that actually would balance correctly. She beamed at her success.
"Come on children, it's time for story time!" The teacher called out to her rather large class of 2nd graders. Everyone gather in a circle around the navy blue rug as the teacher read aloud.
"Does anyone know where old Farmer John lives?" She asked as she closed the book. When no one raised their tiny hand in the air she spoke.
"Well, let's see. He is very old and he is a farmer. That means he lives in a very old farm," the students stared at her as she spoke. "We will be visiting his farm next week! Be sure to get your permission slip signed!" She said just before the school bell rang for everyone to pack up.
The following scene was at the farming house. Their class was split into two groups and were sent on a nature hike with a tour guide. They came across an old spring house that old farmers would use to cool food.
"Does anyone know what this small building does?" asked the guide. A few kids raised their hands but nine got it right. It was just me and another girl.
"Girl in the back," he called on Lillian, the girl who is least likely to know the answer.
"It's used for cooling foods and beverages?"
"Correct, you didn't look it up on your phone did you?" He asked
"No, I got off The librarians phone," she said as she pointed to Mrs.Finnagan, the librarian that had come along on our trip. The girl in front of her asked what Alexandera was going to say.
"Just the same thing she said," I replied.
"At least you're real."
With that the group traveled up the hill and away from the springhouse.
The screen faded to black. The final scene was just the other day. It was the seventh grade dance. She was dressed in one of the most fabulous dresses she had found at the mall. It was a light pink and studded with random sequins dotting the smooth fabric. There was nothing better she thought. She was like any other girl, she had a date, a dress, and saw this as one of the many best days of her life. Alexandera didn't realize that someone wanted to hear her cry in humiliation. That night probably ended out being the worst night of her life. The screen skipped time to 20 minutes before the party's end. The image was of her and her dazzling dress drenched in a sour smelling, black, sticky substance. She was ruined. Crippled. Alexandera ran away crying. That was the last thing she wanted to remember. Her special night falling apart at her fingertips. She cried all night and was pointed and laughed at in school. By then, she had given up. Once again she blacked out and floated out of the theater.

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