The End

A little story with a little twist.

I’m going to be completely clear about this, this is an autobiography. You may not believe it, I know what’s in this journal is absurd, but I again emphasize that it’s all true. And now without further ado, let us commence.

I woke up on a hill, next to a house. I couldn’t remember anything. Anything but a large, bright flash of light. I had scanned my environment, it was all grass as far as I could see. Nothing in all directions, not even a tree.

I had stood up and looked over at the house. I saw a sliding, glass door posed over a balcony, open, then not a second later close. I have to say this took me by surprise. I knew that no one was out in the field, so my best shot was whoever was in that house. I approached the home with prudence, the cold feeling of apprehension was building up inside of me. I reached the front door and tried to open it. It was locked. I tried again, it was still locked.

I had stopped for a moment, just looking at the door. After a minute or so I snapped back to reality. I again tried the door, this time unabated.

Ten minutes after that I started to lose hope, I was wondering why I wouldn’t be let in. I had let go of the knob and slumped against the wall.

I pondered aloud, “Why would this house omit me from-”

I had stopped talking, for I had heard the lock click open. I had stood up and turned the knob. To my surprise, it turned easily in my hand and the door opened.

I had stepped inside, locking the door behind me, a warmth had blanketed me, it pleaded for me to take a nap on one of the nice soft sofas to my left.

I knew I need to find the mysterious person who lived here, so I repressed to urge, and climbed the staircase that stood before the door.

Once I had reached the top of the steps, I found the balcony on which the door had opened. I opened the sliding glass door but I quickly shut it, as I had spotted a figure approaching the house.

I had sprinted down the steps to the front door. The knob shook a bit, but the door was locked, so it came to no avail. The handle shook again. I took a step back.

Nothing happened for about a minute, so I approached the door. Suddenly, the door had begun to shake, something had started to knock vigorously, and the knob continued to quiver.

For ten minutes this had continued, until as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. I heard something hit the wall to the left of the door. A few seconds later I heard a familiar voice speak, “Why would this…”

An understanding had washed over me as I realized just what was going on. In the spur of the moment, I had jumped to unlock the door, just as the man behind the door said, “house omit me from-”

I had heard the man stand and I had jumped behind one of the velvety couches to avoid being seen. The man entered the house and the sight of him had confirmed my suspicion, for the man that had stood not ten feet away from me was, indeed, myself.

He looked over at the couches, sighed and climbed the steps. Only seconds after he left did I stand up and stumble into the hallway next to the stairs. Thoughts had been rushing through my head, What was that? Why was he here? What does this mean?

The hallway melted around me, white jagged words. They all said things like, let me be free, escape this purgatory, VINDICATION...VINDICATION. My own questions suddenly appeared on the walls, the words had a weight on me. It felt like it was my fault that that had happened.

I had been so distracted trying to escape the denunciation that I had almost walked into a closet door. My mind was still reeling, but I was observant enough to notice a large stack of books sitting next to a full sink.

Still a bit out of it, I had grabbed at the top volume, and in my haste, I had knocked it into the sink. I had quickly grabbed it out, but it was too late and the ink that was used to write what ever was in there had washed off. I shoved the novel to the bottom of the stack and grabbed the top edition. But when I opened it, it was empty, clean of all writing. Confused, I had set it back down next to the pile, and right on top of a pencil.

A sudden wave of inspiration fueled me as I grabbed the pencil, and the journal, and started to scribble down what had happened that day.

* * *

I set down the notebook on top of the stack of books, “what now?” I ask myself aloud, the moment of motivation was gone.

“Crack!” The closet door flies open, a swirling white vortex replacing what ever was there before.

I step towards it, I knew what I had to do, a feeling of suspense wrenching at my stomach. And before I could think about it I jumped in.

A large, flash of white light blinded me.

I wake up on a hill, next to a house. I can’t remember anything. Anything but a large, bright flash of white light. I scan my environment, it was all grass as far as I could see. Nothing in all directions, not even a tree.

I stood up and look over at the house. I see a sliding, glass door posed over a balcony, open, then not a second later close. Confused, I start towards the house.

THE END

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Author's Note

I did this quickly so tell me if you notice anything wrong with.

Reviews

[History_Birdman]

This is genuinely interesting! The idea of limbo is presented really well here. Great work! I didn`t notice any grammatical mistakes, although you may want to describe the house more. Feel free to review my work too if you`d like.