Never Safe

There was only one rule: don’t open the door. If I don’t open the door, I’ll keep everyone safe. At least, that’s what they tell me. They tell me lots of things. Mostly, they tell me why I must stay inside.

The sun burns and blisters and you will melt like wax.

The wind cuts and rips and will slice you to bone.

The rain is acid it will sizzle and scald and dissolve you to nothing.

When the sun sets, you are safe but we are not.

You will let him out.

You can’t control him.

You can’t stop him.

He will hurt and cut and bleed and destroy and -

A knock on the door.

“Hello?”

That was a different voice. I've never heard that beautiful voice before.

Who is that?

What do they want?

We don’t want them here.

“Hi, sorry, it’s Lana…from down the road…I just have some of your mail.”

Don’t go out there.

Don’t let her in.

She must leave.

MAKE HER GO AWAY.

I put my hand on the doorknob. Her voice is so lovely, so inviting, so tempting.

“I, uh, guess I’ll just leave it on the porch…”

I opened the door.

Later that night, Lana’s voice joined the others – so she can remind me of my only rule: don’t open the door.