Christian Johnston
Stories (2/0)
Door to the Mind
_____________PART 1_____________ I navigate the long corridor lined with doors on either side. The wallpaper was like something you would see in a movie. Red and yellow stripes drizzle the walls like caramel. I continue to walk down the corridor until I see the end of the hallway come into view. Every door I had tried to open was locked up until now, but the door in front of me was different. It is a brass color with intricate carvings lining the frame, and they slip around the rough corners like snakes. I rub the carvings gently. The rigidity of the carvings contrasts the smooth look of the brass. The frame is also warm to the touch like it is being heated from the other side. I hesitate to open the door, but I feel an urge to open it. Disregarding the wrenching discomfort of terror in my stomach I open the door. The corridor is blasted with a huge wave of heat. I hear a voice in the back of my head say, “Go through the door.” I cannot disobey the voice, so I continue through the doorway. The light coming from the other side is immense, nearly blinding. I take a few steps out into the new terrain. It is a vast desert with nothing for what seems like miles and miles. The horizon is plastered into the sky like an oil painting. Heat waves crash up the sides of the dunes like strong waves. I find myself atop one of the largest dunes nearby. I am already sweating profusely, and the sweat stains on my shirt are drying faster than I can cool off. Then I hear a new command say, “Go back.” I turn around to go back through the door, but it is gone. I start to panic a little bit, but another command booms in the back of my mind. “Walk until you find an exit” it commands. I start walking into the scorching desert, descending the gradual slope of the massive dune I am stationed on.
By Christian Johnston3 years ago in Fiction
Maya’s Smile
On the last day of summer, I watched over the lake. The breeze skipped over the pale waves, chopping them into little ripples. The sun was setting, and the orange light began to fade into a dark blue dusk. I sat alone on the lakefront taking in the warm air. After school I would always go there to get away from home a little longer. It wasn’t that a disliked being there; I just enjoyed the peace and quiet of being away from the commotion. The breeze was gently brushing against my face like a feather when suddenly I heard a voice behind me.
By Christian Johnston3 years ago in Fiction