The Key

I am walking through a desolate landscape. Ancient ruins of a forgotten world barely distinguishable from the dust. The dead unmoving sun above is bleeding and I walk defiantly. With rage painting my face I raise my head and scream to the decaying sky, “Is this what you want? Is this all there is? I am so fucking tired and I see no end.” The words die on the air. Unheard and lost in the wind of this dying world. I close my eyes. Breathe deeply. Lower my head and laugh maniacally until tears run down my face at the absurdity of it all. And still I walk.

Passing dead things all around. Remnants that no longer matter. Memories older than meaning. Echoes of my footsteps fading behind me. Each step a painful reminder of how long I've been going with no end in sight. Is this even the right direction? Everywhere looks the same.

As I walk toward the endless nothing, a thought occurs to me. Did I cause this? Did I do it to myself? No. It can't be that simple. That would make it all pointless. It cannot be. Why am I grinning? I look down at my hands. My body shakes. The realization sinks in, becoming so overpowering my legs give way and I fall to the ground in hysterical laughter. I roll and howl at the hilarity of it—of my suffering. How ridiculous I have been. How foolish I was for holding myself down. All I had to do was stand and I would see I'm not drowning.

With tears streaming down my face, lungs burning, my body aching, I have no idea how long I rolled and laughed, but it slowly began to fade. I lay there with the last remaining chuckles of my realization forcing their way out until only a grin remained. I wait a moment to catch my breath before I get up. I stare at the dusty yellow sky for a moment longer, then I stand. Legs shaky from my bout of maddening laughter, I notice something up ahead. A simple red door just standing there. I slowly and shakily make my way over to it and stand in front of it. I peer around the side, then slowly circle it. This is different and strange. The door shows no signs of damage or decay. I stand before it again and try the handle, only to find it locked. I push the door. It does not move. I take a few steps back, then charge. Nothing. It does not move, nor does it break. Not a single crack or mark. It looks exactly the same. What is this? What does it mean?

There is a bright flash of light behind me. I turn to see. A wall of white stretches endlessly along the horizon and infinitely into the sky. A white so bright it burns to look at. Nothing is beyond it. I notice the ground around it beginning to lift and disintegrate into nothing. Is it moving closer? I can feel the ground shake—or is that my legs? Panic settles in. Should I run? Where? There is nowhere. The door. Try the door. It's still locked. Desperately, I kick and ram it over and over but to no avail. Nothing. I quickly look back. The white is getting closer. I can feel it. It's coming for me. It will erase me. Frantic, I attack the door with every ounce of strength I have left. I claw until my fingers bleed. Nothing. The door remains undisturbed. The white is so close. The air thins and I struggle to breathe. The ground around me starts to give way. The white pulls everything into it. I tremble, nauseous from the exertion, and collapse in front of the door.

“I can't do it. I won't make it. All I have endured will have been for nothing. All my efforts wasted.”

The white is almost on top of me. Moments away from consuming me. A stillness washes over me. “It would be peaceful. To fade into nothingness. For the suffering to stop. I could finally let go.” Everything feels so clear now. I feel a strange sense of lightness and peace. I stand with my hands clenched and face the white defiantly. With my eyes closed and my head held high, I accept my fate. This is the end.

I let go.

In that instant, something presses into my clenched fist, as if drawn by my surrender. What is this? I look down and open my eyes to find a small key nestled in my palm. I stare at it longer than I should have. Longer than what should have been possible. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stop. A smile creeps across my face—not one of relief, but of understanding. I turn to the door and insert the key.

Click.