When I crawled back through my door early that morning, the ring didn't come home with me. I kept worrying the spot on my finger where the ring should have been with my thumb, in the same way that your tongue can't help but feel out the cavernous void made by a freshly lost tooth. I actually tried marching straight back into New Switzerland just to make sure the ring hadn't disappeared completely - that it would show up as long as I was in the story - but the door wouldn't open and I was exhausted from staying up so late, so I collapsed into bed, consoling myself with the promise that I could try again as soon as I woke up.
But by the time I woke up, the mail had come, and with it, another crisp white envelope with that cruel purple logo.
"Do you want me to open it?" Dad asked as we stood in the kitchen.
I shook my head and plucked the envelope out of his hands. I ripped back the seal and pulled out the letter. I was crying before I'd even read the first line.
Dear Ms. Anderson,
I regret to inform you that based on your final high school transcript, which does not reflect the level of academic strength you demonstrated upon being offered admission, and for which you provided no explanation, your acceptance into the Tisch School of the Arts at New York University has been rescinded.
Rescinded.
Rescinded.
Rescinded.
My heart wasn't just broken, it felt like it had been ripped out and rubbed against a cheese grater. I don't remember running up stairs, but suddenly I was in my room, slamming the door shut, stumbling to my stack of books which I knocked over and sent spilling in all directions across my hardwood floor. I grabbed Dracula, the first title on top of the fallen pile, and wrenched it open.
No door. No goddamn door. I screamed and tried again. And again, and again, snot flying out of my nose as I sobbed. The only thing that kept my world from completely dissolving around me was how hard I could focus on getting the goddamn door to open so I could escape this goddamn reality and never, ever, ever come back.
Dad burst into my room as I stood there in the middle of it, opening and closing Dracula with such ferocity that I feared the spine might split.
"Get out!" I sobbed. "It won't work if you're in here!" Dad just stared at me, frozen in the doorway. "Go away, get out, GET OUT!" I kept pulling at the book, breathing like my lungs had been rubbed against a cheese grater, too.
Open and closed. Open and closed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, until Dad finallyslipped out, that beautiful stone-framed door finally opened, and I rolled,utterly disheveled, into Dr. Van Helsing's study.
A/N: Welp, that's Shannon's life ruined. How would you react in her shoes? Let me know with a comment! Thanks as always for your votes and adds to reading lists. :)
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The Dangerous Doors of Shannon Anderson
Teen Fiction[FEATURED WATTPAD PICK] Eighteen-year-old Shannon Anderson should be studying when she discovers a stash of books that physically open doors to the worlds within their pages. Final exams are all that stand between her and her dream of ditching rur...
