The Key

Ding-dong! Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding--

”Okay, I get it!!!” I yelled, the non-stop ‘ding-donging’ had woken me up in the middle of a perfect dream and I was very cranky.

Imagine you were strolling through a magical, lush, garden, and you see a beautiful rose, with an amazing smell. You slowly walk towards it, and pluck the flower. Thankfully, the stem of this rose is smooth, there are no thorns. The second your fingers wrap around it, you feel light, and unknowingly, you start to hover over the soft ground. You gently tuck the rose into your hair, and feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel free, able to do anything and “DING-DONG!”

BOOM! The perfect feeling has been destroyed.

I stomped to the door, wanting to give this person or whatever, a piece of my mind, I didn’t care if it was an alien who was going to kill me.

I yanked the door open, ready to kick, scream, or even throw a tantrum, at whoever woke me up. But, I was in for a big surprise.

When I opened the door the only thing there was a small package with a timer on it. The timer was really fancy and did not match the plain package at all, it was dusted with gold leaf, and studded with diamonds. It looked like it had come from somewhere other than the world I was used to. The timer was set for 12 minutes, and it had already started. I wasn’t sure what it was for, but I was intrigued.

I ripped open the box, and inside was a little key. It was a deep aquamarine color, with small gemstones embedded in it.

“Jeez...this looks like it is worth A LOT…” I murmured under my breath.

Who would send this to me? I don’t know any fancy aristocrat who might have such a thing.

There were only two options; either it was meant for someone else or it really was supposed to be for me. I thought the latter was more likely, but I was not sure. But what did the key open? The only places I could think of were the attic or the basement, but I already had the key for those.

Wait, there was one more option. A very unlikely option, but possible nonetheless. Maybe it was for ‘The Door’, but only my family knew about it? The Door is a small, hard, dark brown door under our stairs that no one had ever been able to open. It had been there since my parents bought the house, about 18 years ago.

It was invincible, the blacksmith couldn’t make a key for it, the hammer wouldn’t make a dent and brute force was out of the question. (A few years ago our cousin had tried to open it by slamming the tip of their shoulder on it, and they had broken their shoulder and fractured their elbow, even though our cousin was a first-class sumo wrestler!) After that, everyone just ignored it. Everyone except me. Every time I walked past it, a weird feeling came over me, I felt like I just had to open it, like my life depended on it. But, when less, and less attention was directed at it, the feeling gradually went away, and soon, I forgot about it too.

I didn’t think the key would work for the door, but I tried it anyway.

I walked up to the door and put the key inside the lock. I turned it ever so slightly, and the door swung open.

I gasped. Around me was the lush garden I had dreamed of! I slowly walked forward, I could hear the birds chirping, and I could feel the soft breeze in my hair.

At the end of the path, there was the exact same luscious rose, waiting to be plucked. I reached down to the rose and DING-DONG!

I groaned. “Oh God, not again!”