Chapter 2

The next week went the same as usual. I hadn’t been taken back to the room with the doors. I just kept picturing my younger selves, and how different their lives were. If this was all real, I really would have to pick the life that I’d wanted to live. The only thing that I wanted to know was when I would have to choose; when one of those fantasies would become a reality.

Hayden kept a close eye on me. Ever since the incident at school, he hadn’t left my side. I appreciated the thought, but was becoming annoyed with how he followed me like a puppy dog.

“I’m fine.” I finally said as we were at the store one day. “You don’t need to watch me so carefully.”

“I can’t take any chances.” he said. “What if something happens to you? What would I do then?” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m fine.” We continued to walk down the aisles, talking about graduation, as it was approaching fast. I was excited to think that I could be independent, but sad knowing that it was going to hurt so bad to leave him, and to wonder if I would ever see him again. He would be leaving for the Navy soon; he would be a different person if he returned.

Thinking about everything made me feel nauseous, and I found a bench by one of the checkouts. I sat down and put my head between my knees. As my head stopped spinning, I looked up to see the doors staring me in the face. I no longer needed an introduction. I walked to ‘A’ and slowly walked inside. This time, instead of 15 empty frames, I saw one picture: my younger self crying while my father held me. The frames were a sort of checklist; to show me which events I’d already seen.

I walked down to the door at the end of the hall. Inside I found another version of my younger self, sitting in a bedroom that I recognized as my own. I sat alone in a small corner of the room, crying in a ball. My father came in, stumbling around. He crouched beside me on the floor and spoke very quietly to me, trying not to wake my mother.

“I’m not happy with you, Lindy.” He said. I remembered this conversation vividly. This was a scene from my past. My father’s breath had smelled like alcohol.

“What do you mean, daddy?” I watched my eight year old self say, cowered away from him.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you?” he said quietly. “We never wanted you.” I watched and remembered as my younger self looked at him, confused with tears in my eyes. “You were a pure accident, but we kept you, because we hoped that you’d better our lives. Turns out that you only made it worse. You’re the reason that we have no money, and the reason that we had to leave our house.”

“Daddy, I didn’t do it, I promise!” my young self said. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s too late to be sorry, Lindy. It’s already happened.”

“No, daddy, I can make it better, I promise-”

“Don’t talk any more.” He said as he grabbed my ponytail and held it tight. “I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry.”

“Daddy, please, you’re hurting me!” I cried.

“I told you to be quiet!” He bellowed, and took the ruler from my desk and hit me across the back. That was the first time that my father had ever hit me, and it wasn’t the last.

~~~

I found myself back by the doors.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.” I said, with tears streaming down my face. “I don’t want to see what lies behind door ‘B’. I just want to go back. Please take me back.” I said, closing my eyes and waiting to be back with Hayden. When I opened my eyes again, I was still in the dark. I hadn’t been taken back to my life. I was still stuck in this stupid place.

“Just let me go.” I whispered.

“You cannot leave,” said the voice. “Until you have seen both lives.”

“Can’t you just let me go now?” I asked. “Please.”

“I cannot let you go without seeing both lives. I’ve already told you that. I don’t make up the rules. I just enforce them.”

I smacked the floor in frustration. This was an awful way of keeping someone captive: showing them parts of their lives that never should have to be relived. Despite my anger, I stood up and walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and walked inside. I didn’t look at the picture frames as I walked past them. Inside of the door, I saw my younger self again. The one in the big house. My father walked through the door. Though I was not actually a part of this life, I cowered away from him, afraid of what he could do to me. He approached the other version of me and sat on a chair beside the desk.

“How’s mommy?” She asked. My father looked at her and let out a breath before speaking.

“Lindy, mommy is very sick.” he paused. She looked at him, with hope in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Lindy, mommy has cancer in her lungs.” he looked at her with tears in his eyes before he continued. “It’s getting harder for her to breathe. The doctors are going to see what they can do for her, but they don’t think that any treatment will help.”

“So she’s going to die?” she asked quietly, on the verge of tears.

“I don’t know. We can only hope that she gets better, okay?” I saw her nod her head and bite her lip to keep the tears from falling, with no success. The first tear fell, and the two embraced in a hug. I could feel more tears falling from my face as I looked around. I was back at the store.

“Thank god.” I heard Hayden say. “Thank god you’re okay.” he looked me in the eyes. “What’s wrong.” I shook my head and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“Nothing.” I said quietly and stood up. “I just remembered something. I don’t want to talk about it.” I said. Hayden grabbed my hand.

“Hey.” he said, pulling me back to the bench. “Don’t push me away. I want to help. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t tell you.” I said, trying to pull away.

“And why is that?” he asked, hurt in his voice.

“I could never do that to you; pull you into this mess.”