Just a door.
The Key.
Somewhere out there, there's a door. It's locked. It keeps away all the wild things, all the thoughts we once had as little kids. All our friends, all the places our parents told us never existed. Giant fields, places where it's always sunny and warm. Places where you don't need to wear shoes, nor jackets, where there isn't technology, or big houses or buildings, roads or highways.
One day, a kid found the door. He asked himself what was inside. He tried to look inside through the cracks of the door. The door was dusty, it was old, and it seemed fragile. What he saw, he never told anyone.
Whenever he felt sad, or alone, he would look through the door. Suddenly all his problems and sadness just faded.
As he grew he never forgot about that door, He would always go back to it and peek through the cracks.
As a grown man he made the promise to never tell anyone about it. It was his door. His place to run away and forget the world he lived on.
One day, when he was walking around in the street, not wanting to go home. Not wanting to face all his problems, he remembered the door. He wanted to live in that place, where there weren't any limits, where there wasn't any problems or bad things.
He went back to that door, and tried with every single key he had, to open it. No key would do. He sat there, outside the door, asking himself what he could do to enter to that world. He remembered his dog, which had passed away when he was only 16. That dog was his only friend. He remembered how while he was waiting outside the vet, waiting for someone to tell him how his dog was, a tall, and big man had approached him. The man sat beside him, he didn't say one word. But when he was about to leave, he slipped a key from his pocket, and gave it to him.
The kid didn't know what to do. He just sat there. Starring the man as he walked away. He had kept that key in an old box of shoes, under his bed. With all the other things he had found in the street when he was a kid. Caps of bottles, rocks, papers, coins, they were all still in there when he checked the box. And so was the key.
He run to the door. And put the key in the lock. It fitted perfectly. As he twisted the key, thinking of all the great things he would find inside, his phone rang.
It was someone from a hospital; his father had had a heart attack, and had been rushed to the hospital.
He put the key back on his pocket and went to the hospital. A few minutes after he got to the there, a nurse walked by and told him his father had passed away, that by the time he got to the hospital, there was nothing else to do to try to safe him.
The kid, whom had now turned into a grown man, sat down in one of the waiting rooms chairs, he didn't know what to do, or say. He stared at the wall for a while. Ten minutes passed until he realized there was a little kid sitting next to him. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying for a while. He asked the kid what was wrong, the kid told him his mom was inside a room, that he found her in the floor when he got back home, and he didn't know what had happened to her.
The man stared at the wall once again. He put his hand on his pocket, and grabbed the key. He pressed it against his hand for a few seconds, and gave it to the kid. The man didn't say one word. He stood up and left. The kid, with the key in his hand, starred the man walking away. He didn't know what that key was or what it opened. He just sat there, watching that tall, big man walking away.
One day, a kid found the door. He asked himself what was inside. He tried to look inside through the cracks of the door. The door was dusty, it was old, and it seemed fragile. What he saw, he never told anyone.
Whenever he felt sad, or alone, he would look through the door. Suddenly all his problems and sadness just faded.
As he grew he never forgot about that door, He would always go back to it and peek through the cracks.
As a grown man he made the promise to never tell anyone about it. It was his door. His place to run away and forget the world he lived on.
One day, when he was walking around in the street, not wanting to go home. Not wanting to face all his problems, he remembered the door. He wanted to live in that place, where there weren't any limits, where there wasn't any problems or bad things.
He went back to that door, and tried with every single key he had, to open it. No key would do. He sat there, outside the door, asking himself what he could do to enter to that world. He remembered his dog, which had passed away when he was only 16. That dog was his only friend. He remembered how while he was waiting outside the vet, waiting for someone to tell him how his dog was, a tall, and big man had approached him. The man sat beside him, he didn't say one word. But when he was about to leave, he slipped a key from his pocket, and gave it to him.
The kid didn't know what to do. He just sat there. Starring the man as he walked away. He had kept that key in an old box of shoes, under his bed. With all the other things he had found in the street when he was a kid. Caps of bottles, rocks, papers, coins, they were all still in there when he checked the box. And so was the key.
He run to the door. And put the key in the lock. It fitted perfectly. As he twisted the key, thinking of all the great things he would find inside, his phone rang.
It was someone from a hospital; his father had had a heart attack, and had been rushed to the hospital.
He put the key back on his pocket and went to the hospital. A few minutes after he got to the there, a nurse walked by and told him his father had passed away, that by the time he got to the hospital, there was nothing else to do to try to safe him.
The kid, whom had now turned into a grown man, sat down in one of the waiting rooms chairs, he didn't know what to do, or say. He stared at the wall for a while. Ten minutes passed until he realized there was a little kid sitting next to him. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying for a while. He asked the kid what was wrong, the kid told him his mom was inside a room, that he found her in the floor when he got back home, and he didn't know what had happened to her.
The man stared at the wall once again. He put his hand on his pocket, and grabbed the key. He pressed it against his hand for a few seconds, and gave it to the kid. The man didn't say one word. He stood up and left. The kid, with the key in his hand, starred the man walking away. He didn't know what that key was or what it opened. He just sat there, watching that tall, big man walking away.