Standing in a small courtyard the young woman is confronted by two doors. They are strong, solid doors, both closed tight before her. Hesitating she turns to look back through the entrance she has come from. There is no turning back; no one has the power to retreat into the past. Turning to the first door she runs her fingers tips across its surface, it is rough and marked with the scars of time and age. Her hand moves to the doors handle, this door it hums with familiarity, this is the same door that has opened for her through every trial, leading her ever onwards. Beyond this door she knows lay familiar halls, familiar voices and melodies; she can hear the calls from beyond. It would be easy to open it and step through; she knows it will not be locked to her. Pressing her cheek against it she closes her eyes; sadness washes over her and settles as she stands there silently. The surface of the door scratches at her cheek but brings a certain comfort, the sort of comfort you get from an old friend but still it does not fill the hollow ache that she feels inside.
Pulling away she approaches the second door, as she does her reflection on the smooth surface of the wall between catches her eye. Pausing she looks deep into her own eyes shocked by the endless emptiness that seems to fill them. She doesn’t remember when she became this way; at what point along this journey did she lose herself? She doesn’t recognize the strange vacant face that stares back at her and shivers in the knowledge that it must be her.
Standing before the second door she raises her hand and holds it, hand flattened, palm hovering just before its surface. Deep inside part of her is afraid if she touches it it will shatter and break. There is warmth that radiates from this door, it has been marked over time as well but the scars take mysterious form. Inside she yearns to explore beyond this door but she knows once it is opened and she steps beyond there is no return. The first door, her entrance to all that is known will be locked and closed forever. Sentimentality and loyalty makes her heart and mind heavy with indecision. Laughter and melodies strange and unknown drift from beyond, tugging even harder at her heart. Placing her hand against it her skin begins to prickle as heat floods through her fingertips deep into her soul. Without thought her other hand reaches for the handle, it’s as her fingers fold about it that she realizes she has even reached for it. Just one turn and it would be open and she could step through and face the next step, the next part of her journey.
Sighing deeply she lets go of the handle and breaks contact with the door, moving to the centre of the courtyard she sits cross legged facing them both. Taking long breaths she lets her mind drift as her eyes systematically scan both doors repeatedly. Searching for a clue or hint as to what she should follow, heart or mind. In the back of her mind she knows she is searching for something that will not come and in the end only she can choose. But for now she sits and contemplates, her heart aching with indecision her soul growing cold with the denial of all she craves.