Behind The Veil

Closed Doors

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Jean didn't feel sorry for salespersons going door to door, trying to earn a wage. She didn't feel sympathetic for the NGO workers trying to get some money for charity. Even if it was a delivery person getting her orders, she'd take the package without a smile.

She would always shut the main door on their faces in irritation. They were low class people who didn't deserve a look at her beautiful face and slender figure. Nor should anyone have a sense of the layout of the house lest they tried getting inside.

'That's not cool,' her flatmate would say every time she saw Jean shut the door on a poor guy's face.

'What is not?' Jean would retort.

'Closing the door at someone's face is too rude, Jean!' she would say with a disapproving frown 'The least you can do is close it politely.'

'They're just some low lives. What's wrong with you?!' Jean would fight back.

'You have a twisted definition of who's a low-life.' She said and marched away in anger into her room, shutting the door in Jean's imitation. Jean snorted in disbelief.

What did her roommate even mean? She decided not to care about it and carry on with her skin care routine.

A long weekend arrived next week. Jean's flatmate hadn't spoken to her after their argument and had left with just a message about going to her friend's to 'detox from her rude aura'. Jean had simply deleted the message and had decided to party on her own. She ordered pizza, ice cream soda and some grocery.

Every time the order came, she shut the door the moment she took the package, without a smile or an expression of acknowledgement. She wouldn't give them ratings for the delivery. If she did, it was on the basis of how she thought their face was and it was usually one star.

Jean played music, watched Netflix for hours, and then she realised she had run out of clean clothes.

'Not on a Friday night, no!' She groaned.

It was past midnight. She had nothing to wear for the pyjama party that evening at one of her friend's. If she wanted to sleep in late and make it in time to her friend's house, she had to do laundry.

Jean scooped an armful of clothes and walked out of her room with headphones still on. She walked through the corridor, towards the hall and out in the utility area. It was a small balcony converted onto washing area that also housed a fully automatic washing machine in a corner. She switched it on and put her clothes in.

Snap...

The door of her room shut loudly. She removed her headphones, having noticed it, but ignored.

'It sure is windy today.' She said and changed the track. She put a thirty minute clock on the machine and decided she needed coffee. Jean stepped out of the utility area.

Snap!

The door shut behind her. Wind was blowing in from the grilled balcony. She rubbed her arms as their surface broke into goosebumps. It was getting cold.

'A bigger cup of coffee is required...' she walked towards the kitchen next to the utility area and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge.

A weird feeling of being alone at midnight filled her. Jean could feel her heartbeat quicken. She increased the volume of the headphones and changed the track to a fast, party song.