Chapter Nine: The Door Inside
1869 Words
THE SECOND DOOR IS INSIDE YOU.
Maya stared at the cracked mirror.
Her reflection stared back.
This time, neither of them moved.
Her mother stood beside her, breathing heavily.
“What does that mean?” Maya whispered.
Her mother didn’t answer.
Maya slowly turned.
“Mom.”
“Don’t listen to it.”
“It said the second door is inside me.”
“It’s lying.”
“Is it?”
Her mother looked away.
Maya felt her stomach drop.
“You know.”
“No.”
“You know something.”
“I know enough.”
“That isn’t an answer!”
Her voice echoed through the hallway.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Maya noticed something.
Her reflection was gone.
The mirror showed the hallway.
The stairs.
Her mother.
But where Maya should have been—
there was only darkness.
Maya stepped closer.
“Mom?”
Her mother grabbed her arm.
“Don’t.”
Maya pulled away.
“Why isn’t my reflection there?”
“Because it’s trying to get your attention.”
“It already has it.”
“Maya.”
“No.”
Maya faced the mirror again.
“I want answers.”
The darkness inside the glass moved.
Her mother stepped backward.
Maya’s reflection slowly appeared.
But it wasn’t standing where Maya was.
It stood deeper inside the mirror.
Far away.
As though there were another room behind the glass.
Maya’s reflection raised its hand.
Then pointed behind her.
Maya turned.
The hallway was empty.
She looked back at the mirror.
Her reflection was pointing again.
Behind her.
Maya turned slowly.
The closet door.
At the end of the hallway.
The same closet she had opened earlier.
Her heart began pounding.
“No.”
Her mother grabbed her hand.
“Don’t go near it.”
“You know what’s in there.”
“No.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I don’t know what it wants.”
Maya looked toward the closet.
The door was slightly open.
A thin line of darkness showed through the gap.
Then—
Knock.
Maya froze.
The sound had come from inside the closet.
Her mother squeezed her hand.
“Stay away.”
Knock.
Maya swallowed.
“Who’s there?”
Her mother turned sharply toward her.
“Don’t answer it.”
Too late.
A voice came from inside.
“Maya?”
The same voice.
Her voice.
But younger.
Seven years old.
Maya felt her knees weaken.
Her mother whispered:
“Oh no.”
The closet door slowly opened.
Maya’s old clothes hung inside.
The cardboard box sat on the floor.
Nothing else.
Then Maya noticed something beneath the box.
A small wooden hatch.
Built into the back wall.
Maya stared.
“That wasn’t there.”
Her mother closed her eyes.
“Yes, it was.”
Maya turned.
“What?”
“I covered it.”
“For ten years?”
Her mother nodded.
Maya stepped closer to the closet.
Her mother grabbed her again.
“Please.”
Maya looked at her.
“Why?”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because I promised I’d never let you open it.”
Maya’s heart stopped.
“Who made you promise?”
Her mother looked toward the hatch.
“You did.”
Silence.
Maya slowly turned back.
The hatch was barely large enough for someone to crawl through.
A brass handle sat in the center.
And carved into the wood was a symbol Maya recognized immediately.
A crescent moon.
Her necklace.
Maya touched the pendant around her neck.
Then looked at the hatch.
“The second door.”
Her mother shook her head.
“Maya, please.”
“It’s been here the whole time.”
“I tried to protect you.”
“From what?”
Her mother whispered:
“From remembering.”
Maya stepped forward.
The hatch began knocking from the other side.
Three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Then the younger voice whispered:
“I’m still waiting.”
Maya grabbed the handle.
Her mother screamed.
“NO!”
The hallway disappeared.
⸻
Maya opened her eyes.
She was standing beside Blackwater Lake.
But it wasn’t nighttime.
The sky was grey.
The forest was silent.
She looked down.
She was wearing different clothes.
A yellow raincoat.
Small boots.
Her hands.
They were tiny.
Maya stopped breathing.
She was seven again.
“No.”
A voice came from behind her.
“You found it.”
Maya turned.
The girl stood beneath the trees.
The one who looked exactly like her.
Only now, Maya noticed something strange.
The girl looked younger too.
Seven years old.
She smiled.
“I knew you would.”
“Where are we?”
The girl looked around.
“Before.”
“Before what?”
The girl’s smile faded.
“Before you left.”
Maya felt a cold wind move across the lake.
She looked toward the water.
The dock stood exactly where it had been in her memories.
And at the end of it—
seven figures.
Ethan.
Sophie.
Daniel.
Lena.
Noah.
Caleb.
And Maya.
Maya stared.
“But I’m here.”
The girl nodded.
“You’re remembering.”
Maya looked at the children.
They weren’t moving.
Frozen.
Like an old photograph.
She slowly approached them.
“What happened that night?”
The girl followed.
“You wanted to find the door.”
“I know.”
“You were obsessed with it.”
“Why?”
The girl didn’t answer.
Maya looked at Ethan.
“You said he warned me.”
“He did.”
“Why didn’t I listen?”
The girl looked toward the lake.
“Because you heard someone calling you.”
Maya’s heart tightened.
“Who?”
The girl finally looked at her.
“You.”
Maya stepped backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I was seven.”
“I know.”
“How could I be calling myself?”
“You weren’t.”
The girl pointed toward the water.
Maya stared at her.
“Then who was?”
Something moved beneath the lake.
The frozen children remained perfectly still.
The girl whispered:
“She learned your voice.”
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“The thing beneath the lake.”
The girl nodded.
“It didn’t have a face.”
Maya listened.
“It didn’t have a name.”
A ripple crossed the water.
“But it wanted one.”
Maya stared at the lake.
“And it chose me?”
“No.”
The girl looked sad.
“It chose both of us.”
Maya shook her head.
“I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t either.”
The girl walked toward the dock.
Maya followed.
The closer they came to the frozen children, the colder the air became.
Maya stopped beside Ethan.
His flashlight was still in his hand.
She looked at his face.
“He’s alive now.”
“For now.”
Maya looked at the girl.
“What does that mean?”
The girl didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached for Lena’s hand.
Maya watched.
Lena’s frozen eyes suddenly moved.
Maya jumped.
Lena looked directly at her.
Her lips parted.
“Help me.”
Then everything moved.
The rain began.
The wind screamed through the trees.
The children came alive.
“Maya!” Ethan shouted.
Seven-year-old Maya stood at the end of the dock.
She was holding the key.
Maya watched herself.
The girl beside her whispered:
“This is where you made the mistake.”
Seven-year-old Maya turned toward the water.
A voice called from beneath the lake.
“Maya…”
Maya covered her ears.
“Don’t listen!”
But nobody heard her.
The memory continued.
Seven-year-old Maya stepped toward the water.
Ethan grabbed her arm.
“No!”
“Let me go!”
“Something is down there!”
“I know!”
Maya froze.
The memory-version of herself looked terrified.
But determined.
The girl beside Maya whispered:
“You thought you could save someone.”
“Who?”
The girl didn’t answer.
Seven-year-old Maya suddenly looked directly at the present-day Maya.
Maya stopped breathing.
The memory shouldn’t have been able to see her.
But it could.
Seven-year-old Maya whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Then she jumped—
Maya squeezed her eyes shut.
A moment later, she opened them.
The lake was gone.
She was standing in darkness.
Someone was crying nearby.
“Maya?”
The voice was weak.
Familiar.
Maya turned.
“Lena?”
A flashlight flickered.
Ethan stood several feet away.
But he looked frightened.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Maya stepped toward him.
“Where is Lena?”
His face changed.
“What?”
“I heard her.”
Ethan looked into the darkness.
“You remember her?”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“Why?”
Ethan’s flashlight flickered.
Behind him, the darkness moved.
A girl stepped forward.
Maya’s heart stopped.
Lena.
She looked older now.
Seventeen.
Exactly as she had looked in the photographs.
“Ethan,” Maya whispered. “You said Lena disappeared.”
“She did.”
Lena smiled faintly.
“Not all of me.”
Maya stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
Lena looked toward the darkness.
“It kept the part of me that remembered.”
Maya’s head began pounding.
The darkness whispered.
Which one of us are you?
Maya froze.
The same words from the library.
Ethan raised his flashlight.
“Run.”
Lena grabbed Maya’s hand.
But Maya didn’t move.
The whisper came again.
Closer.
Which one of us are you?
Maya looked toward the darkness.
And suddenly—
she remembered.
Not the whole night.
Just one moment.
The basement.
The door open.
Her younger self standing inside.
And someone behind her.
Not the girl.
Not Lena.
Not Ethan.
A shadow.
Speaking in Maya’s voice.
Seven-year-old Maya had looked at it and whispered:
“You can have my place.”
The memory ended.
Maya gasped.
She was back in the hallway.
Her mother was holding her shoulders.
“Maya!”
Maya pushed away.
“What did I do?”
Her mother stared at her.
“What did you remember?”
Maya backed toward the mirror.
“I gave it my place.”
Her mother’s face drained of color.
“No.”
“I remember.”
“No.”
“I said it could have my place.”
Her mother shook her head desperately.
“You were a child.”
“What did that mean?”
The lights flickered.
The mirror cracked again.
This time, a piece of glass fell to the floor.
Maya looked down.
In the reflection of the broken piece—
she wasn’t alone.
A seven-year-old girl stood beside her.
Maya slowly turned.
Nobody.
She looked down again.
The girl was still there.
And she was smiling.
Then Maya’s phone buzzed.
A message from Ethan.
For the first time, his number appeared.
YOU REMEMBERED TOO MUCH.
Another message arrived immediately.
GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Maya looked up.
The closet hatch was open.
Her mother whispered:
“Maya…”
Cold air poured from the darkness behind it.
Then something crawled slowly forward.
Maya couldn’t see its face.
But she heard its voice.
Her own voice.
Soft.
Calm.
Happy.
“Welcome home.”
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