It was a dark and stormy night. Zara walked through the narrow alley. She had an umbrella, but she was still soaked, and her backpack was wet as well. Water dripped from the umbrella onto her backpack, and drops slid down her gloomy face, shining briefly under the streetlights.
When she finally reached her apartment on the fifth floor, she opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment had a living room, a kitchen, one bedroom, and a bathroom. The flashes of lightning lit up the rooms, making everything briefly visible. The apartment had the usual furniture and items of a normal home, but it still felt strangely empty.
Zara turned on the light in the living room, placed her umbrella in a basket, and set her wet backpack in a corner. She looked exhausted, and her whole body was shivering from the cold.
Suddenly, the bulb flickered and went out, likely due to the lightning. The room became pitch dark. Zara slowly tried to walk toward her bedroom, but her energy was completely drained. Before she could reach the room, she collapsed onto the floor.
Everything was silent except for the faint sound of water dripping from the keychain on her backpack. Tick... Tick... Tick... The sound echoed in the stillness.
Zara lay there, barely conscious. She felt as if someone was gently lifting her from the floor. She wanted to open her eyes to see who it was, but she couldn’t. Her body was too weak to respond. Slowly, even the sound of the dripping water faded away, and she slipped completely into unconsciousness.
After some time, Zara felt as if someone was sitting near her. She started to hear the sound of water dripping again. When she opened her eyes, there was no one there. She realized she was lying on a wet floor, surrounded by water.
She tried to stand up and look around. Even though it was dark, she could make out her surroundings. For a moment, she froze, unable to breathe. Fear gripped her as she realized something was very wrong.
This wasn’t her apartment. The place felt unfamiliar and unsettling. Zara was terrified and desperately tried to find a way out.
Zara couldn’t find anything around her—no walls, no landmarks. The floor was covered with water up to her ankles, and wherever she looked, it felt like an endless sea. Desperation took over, and she started running, hoping to find something, anything. But there was nothing. After a while, she lost all her energy and collapsed onto the wet floor. Her body refused to move.
She screamed, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness.
Zara: "Help! Is there anybody here? Please help me! Help… help… ahhh… Am I dead?"
She suddenly stopped, her breathing ragged.
Zara: "If I’m dead, just tell me! Where is this place? I can’t take this anymore! I just want to get out of here!"
Zara started crying, her sobs filling the void. She cried so much that she didn’t know how many hours had passed. Her tears stopped coming, but her cries continued, raw and hollow.
Then she heard a faint sound from her right. It was unclear, as though her ears were filled with water. She tried to clean them, but the sound remained muffled. Desperate, she started walking toward it. She didn’t have the strength, but sheer willpower kept her moving.
The sound grew louder but still faint, and after what felt like forever, she noticed something in the distance. She quickened her pace, hope flickering within her. Finally, she saw it—it was a person! Relief washed over her, and she called out loudly:
Zara: "Hello! Please, help me! Can you tell me how to escape from here? Do you know where this is? Are you stuck here like me?"
She walked closer, almost reaching the figure. Now she could see the person clearly. The person was wearing a long black dress that covered their entire body, including their head. The face was barely visible. Zara slowed down, her initial hope turning to unease.
She stared at the figure, trying to see their face. Finally, she saw it—and froze in terror. Her body refused to move as fear overwhelmed her. Unable to bear the sight, she collapsed to the ground and turned away, trembling.
The face was not there. Instead, there seemed to be a dark fog, with only two eyes visible. The color of the eyes was strange—almost like fire. Those two eyes stared at her, unblinking.
As Zara stared at the figure, the fog seemed to shift, slowly revealing a face that was impossible to comprehend. At first, there was nothing but darkness where the face should have been—just a deep, swirling void that seemed to draw in the light around it. But then, two eyes appeared. They were unsettlingly bright, glowing with an eerie, unnatural fire. The eyes burned like embers in a dying fire, their color strange and shifting, as if they were alive with an otherworldly flame.
Zara’s breath caught in her throat. The eyes seemed to stare straight through her, unblinking and full of a cold, empty void. It felt as though they could see everything—every secret, every fear she had ever buried.
There was no mouth. No nose. Just the dark, swirling fog that seemed to surround the eyes like a veil, making the face feel more like an illusion than reality. It was as if the face itself didn’t belong in the world, an empty, haunting mask.
The eyes didn’t need to move; they held her in place, frozen with terror. Zara’s body trembled, and she could feel the weight of those eyes, pressing down on her with a suffocating intensity. She couldn’t look away, yet she couldn’t bear to keep looking, as if the very sight of it was pulling her into something far darker than she could imagine.
Zara got up and started running as fast as she could without looking back. Her heart pounded in her chest. While running, she noticed a door in the distance. Without thinking, she dashed toward it. She grabbed the handle and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
Panicking, she screamed for help and turned around. The person in black was running toward her. Zara’s fear skyrocketed. She threw all her strength into forcing the door open. Finally, it gave way, and she slipped inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
The person outside began pounding and pushing against the door. Zara used all her strength to block it, holding the door with her trembling hands. The banging grew louder, each hit sending a sharp pain through her ears. She felt as though her ears were damaged by the force of the sound.
Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The silence was deafening. Zara stayed still, holding the door, her heart racing. She slowly leaned her ear against it, listening for any sign of movement outside. There was nothing but silence.
She slid down to the floor, her back against the door, and bent her head forward. Exhausted and terrified, she closed her eyes for just a moment, hoping to gather her strength.
After some time, Zara opened her eyes and looked around. A small bulb was on, casting a dim, flickering light. It gave off a warm glow but wasn’t very bright or stable. She could barely see anything in the room. Unlike the wet floor outside, this room was dry. In front of her were two doors.
As she glanced around, her eyes fell on a small stand with a few books on it, resembling a mini library. Hoping to find something useful—like a weapon, a phone, or anything that could help her escape—she walked over and began searching aggressively. She pulled books off the shelves, tossing them to the floor in frustration.
Under the stand, she found a large box. Her heart raced as she opened it, only to discover it was filled with toys. Disappointed, she flung the box to the ground, scattering the toys everywhere.
She stood there like a lost child in a crowd—or rather, like a child hiding in a secret spot, hoping someone would find her and finally end the game.
Zara: "I didn’t do anything wrong in my life. I never hurt anyone. I obeyed my parents. I lived my life trying to please others. I don’t even know what my dreams are—I’ve been living a life that isn’t mine, a life that feels like hell.
"Why is it always me? Why do I have to suffer when I haven’t done anything wrong? I hate the darkness and this silence, but why am I the one trapped here?
"Oh God... if you hate me so much, why don’t you just end my life? Why? Why?"
Zara broke down, crying uncontrollably. After what felt like hours, she picked up a book from the floor. It turned out to be a children’s storybook. She threw it aside in anger and frustration.
Gathering her resolve, she turned toward the two doors. Unsure which one to choose, she decided to try the left door first. If it didn’t help, she’d move to the right one.
She opened the left door slightly and peered inside. The room was pitch dark, and she couldn’t see anything. Hesitating, she turned to the right door and tried to open it, but it was locked. She pushed and kicked at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Afraid that making too much noise would alert the person in black, she stopped trying.
Though terrified, Zara realized she had no other choice but to enter the dark room. As she stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind her. She jumped, startled by the noise. Panicking, she turned to reopen the door, but it was locked. She banged on it, trying her best, but it wouldn’t open.
Suddenly, a dim bulb flickered on, just like in the previous room. In the center of the room was a small table with a bowl of porridge. The porridge was steaming hot. Zara looked around nervously, but there was no one in sight.
Zara: "Hello? Is anyone here?" she called out with a trembling voice. But there was no reply.
In a corner of the room, she noticed a tracksuit and a t-shirt hanging. She looked down at herself and saw her clothes were still wet and dirty. Hesitant but desperate, she took the clothes and changed out of her soaked ones.
Once dressed, her eyes returned to the bowl of porridge. She scanned the room again.
Zara: "Hello? Is anyone here? Can I eat this?"
Her stomach growled, and she murmured to herself, "I’m so hungry."
She picked up the bowl and sat in a corner of the room. Taking a small bite, she realized it was delicious. Tears welled up in her eyes without her noticing. She ate every last bit of the porridge, feeling a strange mix of relief and sorrow.
When she finished, she placed the empty bowl back on the table and sat quietly, unsure of what to do next.
The room also had two doors. Zara came up with a plan to open both doors at the same time so she could see what was inside each one. She grabbed the handles and tried to open them with all her effort, but it didn’t work. She tried again and again, but her plan failed.
Zara: "Why isn’t this opening? Please... just open!"
Frustrated, she decided to choose one door, but she couldn’t make up her mind. She stared at the two doors, switching her gaze from one to the other, frozen with indecision.
Suddenly, she heard a loud banging sound behind her. Someone was trying to open the door to enter the room. It could be that person. Panic gripped her. Without thinking, she grabbed one of the handles in front of her and tried to open it. To her surprise, the door opened immediately on her first attempt.
She hurried inside, closing the door behind her. The moment she stepped into the room, her eyes closed instinctively because of the blinding brightness. The intense light stung her eyes, making it hard to adjust. Slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting, and waited for her vision to clear.
When she could finally see, she noticed four girls standing in a corner, chatting with each other. Zara’s heart leapt with relief. She ran toward them, her voice trembling with hope.
Zara: "Hello! I’m so glad I found you! Please help me—someone is trying to attack me, and I need to escape from here."
But the girls didn’t share her relief. They looked annoyed by her presence.
Girl 1: "What’s wrong with you? Don’t touch me, and get out of here!"
Zara: "Please, I’m begging you! Help me!"
Desperately, Zara tried to grab one of their hands, pleading for help. But her actions only made them angrier.
The girls started to shove her away, yelling at her to leave. Zara continued to beg, clinging to their hands, but their frustration turned into aggression. They began to hit her.
Zara cried out in pain as the girls beat her mercilessly. Her face, legs, and hands were bruised and bleeding. Her clothes turned red with her own blood. In agony, she spotted another door in the room.
Gathering all the strength she had left, she crawled toward it, opened it, and stumbled inside. She shut the door behind her just in time. The girls tried to open it, but the door wouldn’t budge. It seemed that once the door was closed, it could never be reopened.
The room was dimly lit with a dark blue light, giving it an eerie glow. It looked like an office, with people working on computers and others flipping through files. Zara tried to call out for help, but her voice felt trapped in her throat.
Zara (whispering): "Please... help me... help..."
Her voice was so faint that no one seemed to hear her. She crawled toward a man sitting at a desk, but he barely glanced at her before turning back to his work. Desperate, she crawled to a woman sitting in a chair, speaking on the phone. Zara mustered her strength to ask for help again.
To her surprise, the woman stood up, helped Zara to her feet, and guided her to a cabin. Zara felt a wave of relief.
Zara: "Thank you so much for helping me... No one else even noticed me. Can you please help me? Someone is trying to attack me. I need to escape from—"
The woman interrupted her with a cold smile.
Woman: "Do you want to leave this place?"
Zara: "Yes... Can you help me?"
Woman: "Well... you can leave through that door."
She pointed to a door in the corner of the room.
Woman: "But you can only open it after you finish your work here."
Zara stood in confusion, unsure of what the woman meant.
Zara: "What work? Please tell me what I need to do. I'll do anything to get out of here. I just want to go home."
The woman gave her a sinister smile and handed her a pile of files before walking away without saying another word.
Zara sat in the cabin, staring at the files. Her body ached, and her hands were trembling from pain. Slowly, she picked up a tissue from the desk and wiped the dried blood off her hands and face. With no clear instructions, Zara opened the computer in front of her and began typing. She had no idea what she was doing, but somehow, she managed to start working.
Hours passed. Zara’s hands were stiff and heavy, her body worn out, but she kept going. Finally, when she finished, she stood up, her legs shaking, and slowly walked toward the door the woman had pointed out.
Just as she was about to reach it, someone shoved her hard from behind, sending her crashing to the floor.
Man: "How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t block my way!"
The man stormed past her, leaving Zara on the floor in pain. As she looked around, she realized all the employees were staring at her. Their wide, unblinking eyes and unnaturally stretched smiles froze her in fear.
Trembling, she crawled to the door and reached for the handle. Summoning the last of her strength, she turned the knob. To her relief, the door creaked open.
When Zara entered the room, she realized it was the same place where she had eaten the porridge. However, this time, there was an old man and an old woman sitting on chairs, with a young man standing nearby. As soon as they saw her, they started crying and rushed toward her.
Zara panicked. She tried to push them away, overwhelmed by fear. The young man reached out to help her stand, but she shoved him and bolted toward the door. She opened it, stepped through, and slammed it shut behind her. The three people pounded on the door, trying to get in, but it was locked.
Inside the next room, Zara froze in terror. The figure that had been chasing her was standing right in front of her. She couldn’t breathe. Its glowing eyes stared straight into hers, paralyzing her with fear.
The figure slowly stepped closer and reached out as if to touch her. Zara panicked, slapping its hand away and trying to run. But there was no other door in the room. Each time the figure reached for her, she fought back with all her strength, desperately trying to escape.
She turned to the locked door and rattled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Behind the door, the three people were still banging and shouting, adding to her panic. Exhausted, Zara stumbled and fell to the floor, gasping for breath.
The figure began speaking, but the words were muffled, like hearing sounds underwater. Zara clamped her hands over her ears, trying to block it out.
While running, her eyes fell on a mirror hanging on the wall. Grabbing it, she hurled it at the figure. The mirror shattered into pieces, but the figure was unaffected. It remained standing, unfazed.
Zara crawled toward the shattered glass and picked up a sharp piece. Holding it like a weapon, she pointed it at the figure, trembling with fear, and backed into a corner. The figure continued speaking, its voice still incomprehensible.
Her body, overwhelmed by exhaustion and terror, couldn’t take any more. She fainted.
When Zara woke up, the figure was gone. The door to the room was wide open, and warm light streamed in. Still trembling, she stayed on the floor, clutching the shard of glass. Slowly, she lifted it to look at her reflection—and froze.
In the shard, she saw the same terrifying face of the figure staring back at her. But when she glanced around the room, there was no one there. Confused, she spotted a larger piece of the shattered mirror on the floor. She crawled toward it, picked it up, and looked again.
The horrifying face stared back at her, but her own reflection was missing. Her entire body began to shake as the realization sank in. Tentatively, she raised her hand and touched her face.
The face in the mirror was hers.
Her heart pounded as she heard footsteps. The figure appeared again and walked toward her, then sat down directly in front of her. This time, as she looked at it, she saw her own face staring back at her. It was her.
The figure began to speak, and this time, she understood.
“Zara… come to your senses. It’s time to leave the darkness inside you. The thing you’ve been running from all this time is yourself. Please, realize this. The fear, the anger—you’ve been fighting your own reflection.”
Zara’s eyes filled with tears.
“But… everyone hates me,” she whispered. “They all want me to disappear.”
“Not everyone,” the figure replied gently. “There are people who love you, who care about you, and who want to see you return to your true self. Stop focusing on those who hurt you. Leave them behind. Focus on those who truly matter.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Zara sobbed. “I’m scared. I just want to go home.”
“If you truly want to go home, set your mind to it. See that door?” The figure pointed to the glowing door. “Walk through it without fear or doubt. Find yourself again. Love yourself. Can you do that?”
Zara looked at the door, her hands still trembling. Slowly, she stood up. Each step she took toward the door became steadier, her confidence growing with every movement.With each step Zara took toward the door, memories flooded her mind.
She saw herself as a child, sitting on the floor with a storybook her grandfather had gifted her. She smiled, remembering how she and her elder brother would play with toys and then clean the room together afterward. Tears began to stream down her face as the memory shifted to a happy family dinner. Her mother, father, brother, and she were all sitting together, sharing stories, food, and laughter. Those moments were filled with pure joy.
The scene changed. She was now in high school, standing alone as her classmates bullied her. The laughter and happiness she once knew seemed to fade away.
Another memory surfaced. She was in her room, eating alone. The room was quiet, heavy with loneliness.
Then came a glimpse of her workplace. Zara was working tirelessly, but her boss constantly shouted at her. Some of her colleagues took advantage of her hard work and ignored her afterward, treating her as though she were invisible.
A new memory appeared, brighter and warmer. Zara was on a trip with her best friend, laughing and enjoying the moment. They spent nights talking and sharing dreams.
Her heart swelled as the memories shifted to her family. Her mother always cherished her, ensuring she was well-fed and happy. Her father constantly worried about her well-being, doing his best to make her smile. Her brother supported and cherished her, offering a shoulder to lean on.
The mix of good and bad memories overwhelmed her. Her lips trembled, and tears continued to flow, but her steps did not falter.
Finally, Zara reached the door. As she stepped through, a bright light surrounded her. The door behind her slammed shut with a loud bang
Beep... Beep... Beep... The steady sound of a monitor echoed in Zara’s ears. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Her family and best friend stood around her, their faces lighting up with relief. Tears of joy began streaming down their cheeks. Her brother quickly ran to call the doctor.
Zara blinked, confused. She didn’t remember what had happened or why she was in the hospital. Instead of asking, she stayed quiet and cherished the moment, soaking in the warmth of her loved ones.
After some time, Zara turned to her best friend and softly asked, "What happened to me?"
Her friend hesitated but then replied, "Your depression had been getting worse over the last month. You locked yourself in your room, and no matter how much we tried, you wouldn’t come out. Do you know how scared we all were? But last night, something changed. You left your room in the middle of the rain, went back to your family home, and took your old storybook. Then you returned to your apartment. Your brother was so worried about you that he followed you. When he got there, he found you lying on the floor unconscious and rushed you to the hospital."
Tears welled up in her friend’s eyes as she continued, "We were so afraid for you. Your mom, dad, and brother haven’t eaten or slept properly since you were brought here." She began to cry. Then, with a mix of relief and sternness, she added, "If you ever lock yourself in that room again, I swear I’ll drag you out myself, even if it kills me."
Zara’s voice trembled as she replied, "I won’t. I was scared—of being alone, of the darkness. But I don’t want to feel that way anymore."
Both of them cried, their tears a mix of pain and comfort.
Her friend then asked, "By the way, why did you take only that storybook? What’s so special about it?"
Zara fell silent, glancing at the book placed nearby. Her mother had taken it from her backpack and left it on a table, sensing it might matter to Zara.
The book was titled Find Your Door. It had been Zara’s favorite, a gift from her grandfather when she was little.
Moments later, her parents and brother entered the room. They had been speaking to the doctor about her condition and returned looking relieved. The sight of Zara awake and smiling brought them overwhelming joy. They all started joking and laughing, filling the room with warmth and cheer. For the first time in what felt like forever, Zara felt a sense of peace.
Months later, on the day of her final hospital visit, Zara met with her doctor for a last check-up.
The doctor smiled at her and asked, "How are you feeling? That night, what did you see?"
Zara thought for a moment and replied with a gentle smile, "I found my door. I saw the light and pulled myself back."
Her words were simple, but her smile carried a newfound hope and strength that spoke volumes.
—-- THE END —--
