The line had become so fine…
Like a framed door, standing in the middle of nowhere. No walls to give it some sort of reason for being there. Just a tall wooden door with a shiny golden lock. Portal between what they called reality, and her own realm.
It seemed to her that she was born with the key hanging around her neck.
The other side sure was high maintenance at first. Like an empty house that needed to be furnished before anyone could actually move in. But she had been guided. He had held her hand and showed her how to paint her dreams on the blank walls of her mind. She had planted every tree, had set up every persona, she had patiently writen every twist of the intricate plots that linked them all…
He had stood a long while, his warm, comforting hand on her bare shoulder, as she had unfolded her imagination. He had whispered softly to her ear, encouraging her to push the boarders farther and farther away… From a mere cocoon, she now had a whole universe of her own to wander through and to rule upon.
He had then tried to escape, but it was too late for him. She had long enslaved the fantasy of him. The memories she had collected, condemned to keep her company, as long as she would please.
From a mere conductor, she had become the wizzard of her every fantasy. Knitting dreams sweeter than any night could bring her. Bending boarders and time to her own liking. Giving and breaking lives, spreading love and chaos, depending on her moods…
Sunrise after sunrise, and sunset after sunset, she spent more and more time there. Running her fingers on the golden key, hanging down her cleavage, she wondered… What if? What if the time had come?
She unlocked the door whenever she was needed outside. She still knew how to do these things people just did. She blended in the crowd, walked along with it, to places she had to be, with people she had to meet. She did every task that needed be done, and then ran back to the door again, working her key hastily to release the door knob.
She knew it was coming. Reality felt less and less like home… Why did she spend so much time in a world she couldn’t control? Why should she feel content with coping, when she could have all of this? Have him, have them, have it all?
That’s when he noticed the slight change in her gaze and understood that she had made her decision. He begged her to reconsider, or at the very least to postpone until the next day, but her mind was set.
He knew running for the door was futile. He had tried before and she had a thousand ways to stop him, and she always made sure to be creative… He had no choice. There was only one way to escape her folly.
Instead of heading towards the door, he walked straight to her. The key was there, at arm’s reach, shining passport for liberty, resting on the pale silky skin of her chest. Reaching for it was useless, and he aimed for her hands, instead. Cupping them in his large palms, he spoke softly.
She smiled tenderly, but her empty gaze betrayed her true intentions. It was a matter of time and he finally used the only argument that could bring her back to reason.
Stroking her hair, and pulling her against his chest, he asked her to follow him outside. Talking close to her ear, he told her of a life together out there.
Living a real life, my dear… Making real memories… Who knows what will happen if you lock us up in here?
Bending on her fragile body, he kissed her soft lips and noticed she trembled. She hesitated, he could tell…
She returned his kiss, and wrapped herself tight around him for a moment. He closed his eyes, hoping he could soon lead them both out. When he opened them again, she had freed herself from his embrace, and he was alone, while she stood by the door.
Breaking the chain around her neck, she locked their fate, never leaving his stare… And gracing him with her most candid smile, she dropped the golden key on the floor and kicked it under the door.
This story has been inspired by Lou Rasmus’ post, Fiction. If you pay Lou a little visit, let him know Cyranny says “Hi” 🙂