Staring at the huge red door in front of me, sure did give me the wonders of the possibilities that lies beyond it. I was unsure how I stumbled upon such place, but here I was—with hesitant hands, sweaty palms, my maroon dress didn't seem to be any different from the flush on my cheek.
After what seemed like a couple minutes—I finally opened the door. Only to be welcomed by an abandoned house. I have had more scenarios of what this random red door had in store—but this? This wasn't even one of it.
A step. Then another. And another. 'Till I stopped by the grand painting of what seemed like—judging from the faint green paintings and some worn out details—a mountain. For a moment, I paused. As if I was in a trance by this painting of a mere mountain. But not like any mountain. It looked like it reflected me.
What's more to it, if not, just a mountain?
But after wandering around the small area—books scattered everywhere on the nearby shelf with a million dusts that can send someone with house dust allergy. Nonetheless—it didn't stop my feet from moving from one place to another. It got more magnetically attached to every corner. Even if it was just dust.
Until...the last spot of the small room was witnessed by my own hazel eyes. A scene I only see at movies with those cheesy lines and slow mo dramatic effects. But this one had none of those. Just pure...anticipation and—well—maybe, a bit of agony.
Up on the wall, it wrote:
"I'm glad you stayed. Despite the mess, I'm sorry."
