Stay Strong

Through The Door

The rest of Carina’s day passed in a haze. Her job at the café was as uneventful as always—serving lattes to regulars and pretending to care about their small talk. But no matter how much she tried to focus, the old woman’s words haunted her.

Stay strong.

By the time her shift ended, the setting sun cast long shadows across the city streets. Carina decided to take a detour through the park on her way home, hoping the cool evening air would clear her head. The trees rustled gently above her, and the distant sound of laughter from children playing gave her some comfort.

But then, she saw it.

A door.

It stood alone in the middle of a grassy clearing, unconnected to any structure. At first, Carina thought it must be some kind of art installation—London was full of quirky displays. But as she stepped closer, the air around it seemed to hum, a faint vibration she could feel in her chest.

The door was old, its wood weathered and dark, with an ornate brass handle. Despite its oddity, something about it felt... familiar, as if it had been waiting for her.

Carina hesitated, glancing around. The park was empty now, the cheerful noise replaced by an eerie silence. She reached out, her fingers brushing the handle.

It was cold.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, ruffling her hair and tugging at her jacket. The hum grew louder, and before she could pull her hand away, the door creaked open. A golden light spilled out, warm and inviting.

“What the hell...” Carina whispered, peering through.

The world beyond the door didn’t look like Hyde Park. It was hazy, like staring through frosted glass. Shadows and shapes moved within, beckoning her. Every logical part of her screamed to turn around, but her legs seemed to have a will of their own.

She stepped through.

The light enveloped her, and the world spun violently. Carina squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her bag tightly as a strange heat coursed through her body. When the sensation stopped, she stumbled forward, landing hard on cobblestone.

The air was different—heavier, carrying the scent of coal smoke and damp stone. Opening her eyes, Carina froze.

She was no longer in the London she knew.

The streets were narrow, lined with brick buildings that looked like they belonged in an old photograph. Men in flat caps and suspenders walked briskly, while women in long dresses bustled about, carrying parcels. A horse-drawn cart rattled by, its driver shouting at a stray dog to get out of the way.

“What...” Carina whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her clothes—a simple black skirt, blouse, and denim jacket—drew immediate stares. She heard whispers, saw the suspicious looks from passersby. Panic bubbled up inside her as she tried to make sense of it all.

The door was gone.

“Excuse me, miss.” A gruff voice made her spin around. A man in a uniform—some kind of local authority—was eyeing her with suspicion. “What’re you doin’ loitering about dressed like that?”

“I... I...” Carina stammered, her mind racing. She didn’t have an answer, didn’t know how to explain any of this.

The man’s frown deepened. “You’d best come with me—”

“Oi, leave her be!”

A new voice cut through the tension. Carina turned to see a man about her age striding toward them. He had brown hair, blue eyes that seemed to shine even in the dim light, and a short, scruffy beard.

“She’s with me,” the man said firmly, stepping between Carina and the guard. “Sorry, officer. She’s my cousin—bit of a dreamer, you see. Always getting herself into trouble.”

The guard eyed him warily but eventually shrugged. “Keep an eye on her, then.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Carina alone with her unexpected savior.

“You alright?” the man asked, his tone softer now.

Carina nodded, though she felt anything but. “I... I don’t know where I am.”

The man’s expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and concern. “You’re in London, of course. But you look like you’ve been dropped in from another planet.”

Carina swallowed hard, her heart racing. What have I gotten myself into?