Door

The door of my home was always

open. I never needed a key to enter,

nor did I fear that someone would

dare to steal. It was a kind of

ingrained custom in our

community, a small refuge

of security in a world

where paranoia and

fear were common currency.

It was coming home and finding the

door open, welcoming and

hospitable, ready to receive me.

However, one day, that tranquility

shattered into a thousand pieces.

The open door, something so

natural, became the scene of

the inexplicable. That day,

I decided to let someone

I knew enter. I knew the

door was always open,

and I trusted that

everything would

remain the same.

But that person

entered stealthily

and stole something

of immense value.

Why did they need it

when they lacked nothing?

They chose that innocent door,

but their action shattered my

innocent heart.

That which was once pure and

immaculate was taken from

me. The innocent heart

exists only once in a

lifetime.

As a result of that

incident, all the

doors in my life

closed.

Even the key was lost because

no one else could inhabit that space.

The house that was once a home became

a desolate place. People would occupy other

spaces, like the garage or the yard, but the heart,

the core of the house, could never be inhabited again.

The keys, which used to go unnoticed, now warned of

dangers. The locks that were once decorative were now guardians of my vulnerability. Why didn't I know? Why

doesn't anyone know? Knowledge is a shield against the evils of the world, and innocence, in a world full of criminals, can be destructive. The door is no longer open, and my innocent heart no longer exists.