Broken Paradise

The blue door

'' What do babies dream of? They must dream of the life before, just as we dream of the life after . "Jonathan Safran Foer.

A blue door opened slightly, just so you could see through a small gap, it was surrounded by dark emptiness and icy coldness. Everything seemed surreal and creepy, out of the door came a greedy mist wich was no more than one meter high. It stank cruelly of blood and rotting flesh, I could not see or make out what was behind the door but I was afraid. Something familiar was behind it, I felt it, but I could'nt move, all I heard was my own breath. As is blinked suddenly the blue door was right in front of me, my nose almost touched the wood, which was very old looking. A faint whisper got louder, it sounded like a girl, but it was too vague to make out what it meant. Then a terrible scratch noise appeared, it was shrill and aching in the ears and in the brain. Before I knew, countless hands grabbed me and pulled me into the door. The last thing I saw was a big white emptiness. Then everything turned black.

For a second it seemed to me as if I had landed in hell. The fog shone in icy coldness, and the hands that touched my skin felt like they were tearing out pieces of my flesh, or trying to do so.

My eyes opened, I layed on my back and looked up, it was deep in the night but there were still cars on the road. I realized that because the lights of the cars were shining through my window. I layed down on my side, thinking about unimportant stuff like "Where do I have to go to tomorrow ...?" Or "What is will there be to eat in school tomorrow?" But I asked myself questions like that only after I had that dream, it calmed and helped me to fell asleep again. This time, however, I didnt got any eye closed. After some time of lying and thinking, I got up, dressed and went slowly out of my room. I tried to be as quietly as possible to not wake my adoptive parents, they were much nicer than my real ones, much more appropriate. When I was 8, I lived in England. My real parents were addictive drinkers and have beaten me. I hated them. One day, fortunately, people came from the youth office and took me with them, without them I might not be here today. At that time I had another sister, her name was Horacia, she was 4 years younger than me. Anyways, when they took me with them, I landed in an orphanage where I was treated well, but my sister was already taken by a family, which totally destroyed me. We always sent letters to each other, asked how we were doing, what I was doing and how everything was going on here and there. At the age of 14, I was told by Horacia that shell come to the orphanage to visit me. She lived very far away and was only 10 years old. Then, five months after her letter, she actually came to my orphanage, But not under the circumstances to visit me, but to stay here. Her adopted mother didnt want her anymore because she were too much work for her, which was simply stupid. I was so happy to see her again, in these 6 years she has grown so much, she was hardly recognizable.