Knocking No More
Every day she knocked. Every single morning, as soon as the light crept through the dusty old blinds, she would force herself out of bed, through all the mess and disgust scattered throughout the room.
Man, I need to clean this place, she thought to herself as her foot snagged on something. An old memory, a painful moment, maybe. She ignored it, as she always did, and proceeded to the door.
She knew the door was there because people had told her so. There was a way out, they said, you just have to figure it out. She’d heard this many times from many people, but so far all she’d been able to find in her little gray box was a few tiny windows. Glimpses into what could be. They must have served to frustrate her, infuriate her. She hated being able to see what she could have, but never being able to reach it.
She cried a lot here.
Pushing the thoughts aside as best she could, she focused all of her attention to the vague outline of a door. She hadn't always been able to see it, just heard about it. But recently, though, something had changed. She could see where the door should be. She knew it was there now, and that gave her strength.
With new found courage, she marched to the wall with the outline, stopping just short, and raised her fist. For a moment, she looked at her hand. Mangled, bruised, and bloody from years of knocking. The sight of it made her mind cloud with anger and sadness.
The filth from behind her moved, swirling slowly together, like water going down the drain. She glanced back, knowing what was coming. Her heart was racing now, her mind too. It was coming for her again, and she didn’t think she could do it again.
Please, not again.
She took a deep breath slowly, like she had been learning, and closed her eyes. Stop. Breathe. Think. With all her might and courage, she resisted the slush swishing around her feet, trying desperately to crawl up her legs, trying to consume her.
She raised her fist again, and banged on the door. Once. Twice. Three, four and five times. She slammed her fists into it, begging, screaming. Someone please help me. Someone open the door!
But they didn't and they wouldn't. This door was hers to open. It was her responsibility to figure it out, no one else. The thought of this scared her more, and the sludge was able to slither up to her waist. It was about to happen again. She wanted to panic. Scream and cry.
No.
Not this time…
She opened her eyes, focusing ahead. The outline was there, a bit more faded it seemed, but she could tell. The door wasn't going to open itself. And no one was going to open it for her. She had to do it on her own, and as frightening as that seemed, somehow she was ready. She was done knocking.
It was time to break through.
The sludge faltered suddenly, slowing almost to a stop as it proceeded up her stomach, to her chest. It had almost gotten her again. Almost.
With a new found fire burning inside her, she smiled and took one more slow, deep breath. The clean air filled her lungs and gave her life. She was ready.
It took all of her strength, winding back and throwing that first punch. BAM! Right smack in the middle. She heard a splinter, and her face lit up. It's working! I have to keep fighting!
Another punch, three, four and five, every hit landing hard and every land causing the door to crack, spiderwebbing across the surface. It wouldn't be long now. She was almost there. She just had to stay strong. Stay focused.
An eternity of fighting went by, it seemed. She was tired, drained, breathless and scared. The sludge was up to her neck, strangling her, trying to make her stop. It didn’t want her to escape. She knew that. That’s why she had to keep trying. She felt her energy was completely spent, but she kept hitting. One more, two... and on the third, the last one she could have possibly thrown, the one that embodied all of her anger and sorrow, broke through.
The light shined brightly through, enveloping her, causing her to squint her eyes shut. She felt the sludge disappear, dissipate into the light. The warmth overcame her entire body, cradling her.
She felt happy. She felt excited. She pushed past the light and ran out, her tired legs leading her to a new world full of new possibilities.
She was finally free.