The Mystery Knock

'I will get my answers today' I reassure myself 100th time in the last minute. I look up to check the clock above the mantle...AGAIN!! It is 3 mins to 12'o clock. You see most people get excited about their Birthday, me? I am a ball of anxiety. Why? Because every year at exactly midnight someone knocks on my door. No matter where I am, as I have been in a few different foster homes over the years. But every year when I try to find who it is, no-one! Empty! So, it is a mystery which has been plaguing me.

I am Alyssa, turning 20-years-old in next 3mins, who believes in facing everything head-on. Thus, the reason, I am standing at the main door of my studio apartment, hand on the handle, ready to open the door. Asking myself again who can it be?

Can it be my birth parents? guilty to face me, who simply knock on my birthday every year. If so, will I meet them this year? Can anything be a good enough reason to be abandoned?

A sibling, half-sibling from one of my birth parents?

A stalker? Someone who wants to harm me? Will I get my answer today? What will happen after I get the answers?

As you can see, I have an overactive imagination, maybe this mystery knock made me jump into the world of writing. I love to write, it is my passion, my outlet, and my comfort for everything good, bad or mysterious. My stories usually have me as the heroine and a handsome hero, saving the world together. My musings are broken by the alarm for just a minute before 12.

'Come, Alyssa, face it head-on' checking myself in the mirror one last time. I see all my excitement and nervousness reflected in my blue eyes. My long brown hair is down in ringlets and paired with black leggings and shirt, I am going for casual. Satisfied I start the countdown....

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2... I yank the door open just as the knock comes. I almost expect it to be empty like every year, instead, I see a guy standing in front of my door, ready to knock.

He lifts his eyes, and I almost gasp. He is not some guy, he is a man, a handsome man at that. Even in the dull light, I can make out his eyes, they give him an air of maturity, someone who has seen too much. He has broad shoulders that fill his dark T-shirt perfectly. His face is blank but somehow still oozes confidence, like nothing can bother him. He brings his hands down, his eyes taking me in.

'Happy Birthday, Alyssa' his voice is rough, yet smooth, nothing like I expected. I just stand there, looking like a deer in the headlights. He looks familiar, have I met him before? He clears his throat and brings me back from my random thoughts.

'Thank you?' my reply more of a question. I have pictured this moment so many times, yet now...I feel lost.

'May I come in? I would like to talk to you about something important.' He asks.

'Why do you knock on my door every year? Are you the one who knocks on my door? Do I know you? Who are you?' yeah, I know...the sequence of questioning is a little off...but I am shocked!

'I am Coen, we have never officially met. Yes, I am the one who knocks every year on the door.' he answers with a straight face and in correct order making me look foolish.

'why?' is my smart-ass reply. Because I do not understand.

'If you would let me come in. I would explain it to you. I assure you I am a friend and do not mean any harm.'

Uh...until he said that I did not even think that he could harm me. But somehow, my instincts tell me to trust him...weird!!

'Ok, please come in Coen'

Once we are inside, I take some time to compose myself and observe Coen. His hair is dirty blond left wild but the reason he looks familiar is because of the eyes. They are like the ones I see in my dreams... where he keeps on saving me from different monsters in my nightmares. That cannot be real... they are dreams...Right?

'Let me explain from the start, I am a guardian. You and I are the creatures of magic....' He says like that is common knowledge and all I could think is EXCUSE ME!!!

My expressions must have shown him my confusion, as he starts explaining... 'I understand this is new and unknown. Magic is real, you have magic, a rare, almost extinct magic of fate writers. You are a writer, am I correct?'

I just nod and he continues... 'your magic is related to your writing. You have the power to change the fate of the people around you. What you write, comes true. As I am your assigned guardian, I was given the task to protect you. I put a protection spell around you and wherever you moved. Every year at your birthday, I renew the protection spell. Hence, the knock.'

'Ok...let me get this straight... you mean to say, I have some superpower that can change people's fate.' I summarize...

'It is not a superpower, but you can say that. When you write, some of it becomes the truth. All fate writers are drawn to writing stories naturally. It flows through them. But every magic has its limitations and the same goes for you.'

'Clearly, as I have been writing stories since I can remember, and I would love to change a lot of things in my life if I can actually change fate....'

'As I said, every magic has its limitations. You cannot alter your own fate for one. But the reason you have not seen any of your writings come to life is because of the protection spell I have put on you and also because you were still young. I came in today, to explain to you, your magic, as now you have come of age, and my protection spell won't be able to hold any new writings from coming to life.'

Realization dawns on me... my latest story, it is about a monster, who is risen from the depths of hell and the hero, who looks exactly like Coen with the heroine, who I have based on myself, tries to save the world. I am still in the middle of completing the story...Coen and I are still fighting the beast...

'You mean to say, that the story I am writing about the beast, will come alive...'

'...by end of today... if something is not done.' he completes for me....

'What is to be done? What can I do?' I ask in panic...

He stands to pulls out his sword and a lighter...seriously?

'What does that mean?' I ask

'It means you have a choice to make.... either pick the sword up to fight the beast...or burn the story and never write again...'

Stop writing? Or Fight a Beast? Well.... HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!

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Word count: 1197 words