S.O.S

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

"You're not real," I say to her, a tad reserved.

"What about you then? Are you real?" Her slack mouth is gaping. She looks like she has crawled out of a horror movie. I'm not scared. Not yet. This is beyond absurd. Do I really fear my own mom?

I feel obligated to give an answer to her question that nearly left me speechless. "What? Of course, I am," I reply with a frown.

Not wanting to waste any more time on this nonsensical conversation, I turn on my heels to walk to the door but my mother suddenly blocks the way. I have no time to ask myself how she did that when she spoke again, this time inside my head: "I don't think so."

"Move away." The brusque words just roll off my tongue before I can put on any kind of filter. My heart is beating faster than I imagined, it betrays me in spite of my seemingly abrasive facade. Thirty seconds left.

"I can't let you find the secret behind the final door."

"I'm doing this to save my family."

"You won't save them. They would die. Turn back."

"No."

"I said turn back. Now." An edge in her booming voice makes my whole body stiffen. That's the tone she used when I was a disobedient child who was yet to understand the word authority.

Suddenly, her dark, bloodshot eyes roll over as if there is nothing holding them in place and I find myself staring stupidly at a pair of pitch-black eyes. For a millisecond, my sluggish mind is processing the sudden change, not commanding my legs to move.

My mother raises her arms and peels off a layer of skin that comes off as easily as a flaking wallpaper revealing the pale, wrinkly, and ugly face of a monster. Her dirty nails grow in length stretching the skin like a rubber band. She shows off her well-equipped mouth with a devilish smile that is way too wide for her face.

I try not to yield to my primitive instincts, rather focusing on taming my growing sense of panic, as like a wild animal. A lump in my throat threatens to suffocate me catching all the yelps that try to escape my mouth. I wonder if my soles have been glued onto the ground because I could've as well been attempting to lift 100 kg weights. Is it fear or disgust? I don't know. Maybe both.

"YOU ARE A BAD BOY, DIMASH. WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN TO YOUR MOM?" My ears almost start ringing because of the high-pitched croak that leaves her huge mouth.

I break into a run, the power of adrenaline in my veins is carrying me forward. My heart is vigorously pumping more and more oxygen into my body but I still feel I'm out of breath. I don't want to lose this game so early on. I'm not the type of person who gives up that easily.

"COME HERE, BOY!" I hear my mother's piercing, shrill screams getting louder but I'm too afraid to steal a glance at her over my shoulder. That's something I've learned from horror movies and I was told the same before I started this simulation. Never ever look behind you. "WHAT YOU NEED IS TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON!"

Goosebumps blossoming all over my skin, I build up speed the distancing door in the main focus. I feel like it shrinks the more I try to reach for it.

Ten seconds. If I can't make it now, I'll lose.

I can't breathe.

Nine seconds...

I can't do this.

Eight seconds...

This is impossible.

Seven seconds...

I'm scared.

Six seconds...

I can't let my mother down.

Five seconds...

I throw myself against the door feeling the knife of pain stab my right shoulder. I see stars for a split second before I notice that my mother's vulture-like claws have sunk deep into my flesh making my every nerve ending cry in pain. I groan out of agony and she smiles like a maniac, flashing her bloody, sharp teeth while yearning to bite my head off with one nip.

My blood is flowing down my arm like a red brook. The metallic smell fills my senses as I make an attempt to fight off my mother's bloodthirsty jaws.

Two seconds...

Driven by a mix of panic and despair, I push the door one more time. It finally gives up and opens, the threatening embrace of the darkness swallowing me whole and leaving my furious mother claw at the thin air before disappearing.