By Kathrine "Katie" Distel
Katie pauses at the door and takes a deep breath. She hates this place. The solid black door seems to stare at her, taunting her. Painted at eye level are the words, ‘Enter if you dare’— the result of a day when she had not dared to enter. She glances backwards at the bright, colorful hallway behind her. It is the perfect combination of spring and summer painted on the walls, beautiful and comforting. She turns back to the black door and rests her hand on the knob. It is time. With another deep breath she turns the white knob, a contrast to remind her of what is inside. She sets her shoulder against the door and shoves it open.
The walls and ceiling are blindingly white, the tiles floors the same color, reflecting light into her eyes. If she could stand to be in here long enough someday, that would be the first thing she would change. Her footsteps echo down the hall as she slowly follows the sound toward a second black door at the other end. Lining the seemingly endless hall are white doors, each with a small window reinforced with wire. She knows all too well what is behind each door but looks anyway, part out of need and part out of sick curiosity. The first door. Inside is a girl of average height with short blond hair sitting in a corner and holding a knife. She is dressed in all black and her face looks void of emotion. Katie is looking at herself. The girl brings the knife to her wrist and Katie steps back. Though she has never set a blade to her skin, she knows that it would be far too easy a habit to fall into since joy, though given by God, is often overtaken by doubt and depression, which are always lurking in the shadows.
Katie continues down the hall, this time stopping at a door on her left. Again she sees a blond girl through the widow. However, this girl is not alone. Sitting on a bench lining all four walls are many different people, their heads bowed as if they are sleeping. In the center with Katie’s replica is a boy about her age. He says something and the girl suddenly raises her right arm and punches him across the jaw, opening an old wound on his face. The boy fights back but the girl’s anger fuels her strength and she easily pummels him to the ground. He lies there for a few moments, as if dead, then rises and sits on the bench, head down. As he sits, the person to his left stands and walks to the center. She talks to the girl for a few moments then suddenly they are clawing at each other. Tears fill Katie’s eyes, and she turns to continue down the hallway.
There are many more doors, each hiding a blond girl who is consumed by her struggles. One girl looks as if she hasn’t eaten in months, yet when she looks in the mirror opposite the door, the reflection is overweight. The girl glances at an apple sitting next to the mirror, turns and walks to a treadmill.
Katie begins to walk faster, barely glancing at the rooms. But she knows what is inside each and the scenes play in her mind: a girl yelling and slapping her mom; another jeering at a man standing behind a pulpit; still another wearing a skimpy outfit, strutting around a room full of young men. Desperately, she begins to run, compelled by the anguish building in her heart. Her eyes are fixed on the black door at the end of the hallway. This needs to end. Now.
She pulls up right in front of the door; the only sound is her labored breathing echoing down the hall behind her. Inside she hears metal tapping against metal—a steady, rhythmic sound to match her breathing. Slowly she raises her hand to the knob, pulls the door open and steps in, the door booming shut behind her. Utter darkness. In the black, the only sound is the tapping metal and the shallow breathing of two people. She stretches her arm to the right and closes her fingers around a small matchbox resting on a table. The sudden flash of light when she strikes the match reveals that the other person is watching her. She lights a candle sitting on the table and steps forward. Before her is an enormous metal chair covered with ornate carvings and bolted to the floor. Sitting on the chair is another replica of Katie. This one, however, looks less like her and more like a demon in human skin. Her bare feet are bruised from kicking the legs of the chair. Her tight black pants and shirt are torn in many places. Her hands and arms are crisscrossed with cuts from the metal chains holding her to the chair. Her hair is matted and dirty. The light glints off of her coal black eyes. She survives with no food or water—her provisions are the real Katie’s sins.
“Have you come to curse me again, or will you finally set me free?” she sneers, glaring at Katie.
Without responding, Katie kneels and the chained girl tries in vain to move the chair back. The kneeling girl begins to speak and the demon screams, trying to cover up the noise of the words. However, though the kneeling girl never raises her voice, her words easily overpower the freakish screams. The chained girl begins to convulse and her screams grow hoarse and slowly die to a whisper. Katie rises and the dark girl glares at her with the purest form of hate.
“Why do you do this to me?” she snarls in a barely audible voice.
“I do not want to be you.”
Without looking to the right or left, Katie fairly floats back down the hallway. She doesn’t need to look in the doors for she knows what is happening behind them. All of the people are lying on the ground, asleep.
When she exits the hallway, Katie closes the door, kneels down and rests her head against it. She prays, once again asking her Savior to keep the demons out of her life. That is why she must visit the hallways sometimes—to remind her of what she doesn’t want to be. When she rises, she has tears rolling down her face but once again she sees the wonderful sight that always makes the trip worth all the anguish: a bright red cross has been painted on the door and the white knob that had taunted her previously has completely disappeared. Softly smiling, Katie runs her fingers over the cross and turns away, her feet silently tapping down the cheery hallway. Compelled by the love filling her heart, she begins to hum. All is well again.
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