Elsie didn’t like her older brother.
In all fairness, he didn’t like her either, which was why she wasn’t offended when he “accidentally” tripped her as they crossed the street to school. It was their first day of high school in a new town and she felt relieved that, no matter where they lived, some things would never change.
The day passed uneventfully, with only minor inconveniences as she avoided her brother in the hallways and feigned interest in the kids around her. She focused instead on her decision to cut her black hair short and buy some smaller clothes, ones that fit her. She didn’t mind the people around her, but her desire to get home and bury under the bed covers was strong; coming from two months in Nevada and six in rural California, the New Jersey cold was worse than she expected.
Elsie ducked out of the school building and into the snow outside as quickly as possible. Her house was only a few blocks away, and she hoped to make it there before Robert was out of class. She had to ditch the second half of sixth period in order to do so, but she didn’t care. They’d probably be out of this city before long anyway. Their mother had a horrible time holding down a job.
She rounded a corner and nearly slipped on the icy ground. There Robert stood with his new buddies, showing them how to jimmy a parked car. Jerking back around the corner, she sucked in her breath and started to tiptoe in the opposite direction. She wasn’t quite sure where to go, but she’d find another route.
Crack.
The sound of ice breaking free from the edge of the sidewalk as she placed her weight on it silenced the dull speech of the boys around the corner. Not caring any longer about her safety (or perhaps caring about it more), Elsie took off at a sprint, trusting the thick rubber treads of her snow boots to save her from skidding down the icy path.
Thud.
The rock grazed her right shoulder. It didn’t hurt, not at this distance, but it threw her off balance. She heard laughter behind her, but no pursuing steps. Robert must not have thought it a battle worth fighting. Still, rocks and snowballs rained down behind her until she reached the next corner and flung herself around it.
Fairly certain she was safe for the moment, she set off searching for a way home. She wound through indistinct streets, avoiding people, not trying too hard to reach her destination. Robert had already seen her, and was probably waiting at their house. It was better if she arrived later, as he might get bored and leave. One could only hope for small miracles.
The scenery around her soon faded from solid, gray apartments and square, blocky houses to shabby office buildings with broken windows and decaying wooden shacks. Elsie was aware that she was far from any familiar part of town and that she should double back toward what she knew, but with each step she breathed in freezing air and blissful freedom. In nearly every city they lived in, she had been driven home by the police at least once, and not because she had done anything wrong. Rather, she would simply wander off, and her mother would worry and eventually call the cops. Today was certainly no different. Elsie knew her mother would call again and they’d find her and take her home, so she wasn’t afraid. Not in the slightest.
She liked this part of town, where the buildings felt like individual entities. The structures near school made her think of little green army men lined up in a row. But here, every shack had personality, each building its own graffiti, and all were worn with age and experience. She often paused to stare, to read, to wonder. But she grew tired. Her feet began to ache, her arms drooped with the weight of her books, shoulders pained from the backpack she carried. And there were no police. No one had yet come looking for her. Strange.
Elsie stopped at the next house and sat down on the chipped concrete wall that lined the property. She squinted through the snow, vaguely examining the shadowed buildings. A flash of color caught her eye, and she immediately hoped a bird had flown by. She’d hardly seen any animals since moving here, which made the city that much more unnerving. Focusing, she realized with a frown that it wasn’t a bird, but a door.
A bright red door.
On the second story.
A bright red door on the second story of a ramshackle building in a lonely part of town. A door that led straight to…air.
Really, a door that led nowhere.
She loved mysteries of this sort. Little things, out of place, stranded in the wrong time, the wrong era, the wrong…world. She dropped her books on the concrete, heedless of where they lay, and set her backpack against the wall. She stepped into the street and walked swiftly toward the house, entranced by the door. It must have been built for a reason. Someone wanted a door that led nowhere, but who? And why?
The front door was just as dull as that of every other building, the lock broken and knob tarnished. She kicked her way inside, pausing every few steps to listen. She heard nothing, not even a rat scurrying about its business. She felt along the wall until her hand reached a switch. She didn’t expect that anyone was paying an electric bill, and yet – the light switched on. The room was empty and swept clean.
She found it all so very intriguing.
The first room led to another, this one a sort of hall with stairs leading up into the darkness of the second floor. The bottom step was spotless, the second just as clean. Gradually, slowly, trying not to ruin the mysterious stillness, she climbed the stairs, noticing that each one grew dirtier. By the time she reached the top, there were piles of dust coating the dark, grainy wood. Spider webs clung to the corners where the walls met the ceiling, and the flowery wallpaper was torn and stained. It reminded her of a house they had lived in until Robert traced over the wallpaper in her room with a penknife.
The door. Elsie desperately wanted to find that door. She paused for a minute, listening, looking for a way to get her bearings. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She wasn't deterred. She would find that door, and she would find out what happened when she opened it. It was too dark to really tell where she was going, despite the light outside. She could still see no windows, merely outlines of walls and furniture. She moved slowly, trying not to trip, but her shuffling steps kicked up dust. She fanned the thick air, stifling coughs that seemed extraordinarily loud.
The first door she came to was locked. It might be worth breaking open, but only if there wasn't another option. The second door looked as if someone had already forced their way in. She tentatively pushed it open. Emptiness. A broken picture frame and, yet again, no windows. Backing out, she saw only one more door down the hallway. As she approached she noticed a difference; this one looked freshly painted, as if someone had tried to cover up a dark shade of green with a light blue.
This had to be the right one.
Her fingers hovered over the rounded brass knob, excitement at finding the mysterious door barely contained. It twisted easily, the door pushed open and…
There it was. The bright red door she had seen from the street. She hurried to it. The door was as clean as the blue one, but with one flaw: someone had carved a word into it, right at her eye level.
Nowhere.
The red door to Nowhere. Intrigued, she traced the words with her finger, drawing it away quickly as a splinter from the ‘h’ dug into her skin. Shivering with anticipation, Elsie reached her unhurt hand toward the doorknob. It twisted, slowly, resisting the movement. The more she twisted, the harder it was to open. She put her other hand on the knob and yanked the door open. A great gust of wind whirled through the archway, violently blinding her as dust and hair flew. She pushed against the door with her body, struggling to keep it open, just wanting one good look into the open hole in the wall before her efforts failed. The wind continued to blow, churning back and forth, upsetting all order in the room. Her shrieks were drowned out by its howling, and she fought desperately to keep her eyes open, to hold her hair back, and slowly she inched closer to the doorframe, and peering inside she saw darkness.
A chasm, deeper than any hole or cliff gorge she had ever seen, much deeper than the mere two stories the building seemed to have been from the outside. And from the depths came the great swirling winds, the wretched noise, the darkness seeping from below, its tendrils spreading through the entire room with no windows from which to escape. The darkness scared her, made her wish she hadn’t ever opened the door, and she moved back away from the chasm with every intention of shutting the door and never thinking of it again, when suddenly everything stopped.
The wind and shrieking sound ceased, the darkness retracted into the hole, and Elsie stood staring at the scene before her. The room was destroyed. Dust floated gently on the rank air and settled on her disarrayed clothing and matted hair. But as the room regained its silent stillness she became aware that something had changed. The carving of ‘Nowhere’ was now on the inside of the door as well. Her eyes focused and she glanced at the closest wall. Where there had been smooth wallpaper, there were now words.
Words, carved into the walls, jagged and splintered. At first there seemed to be no rhyme or pattern, just random words jumping out, all different sizes and shapes. But as she stared, she began to piece together sentences…horrible sentences, lines that she didn’t want to read, things she didn’t want to see…
There’s only one door and it leads Nowhere.
I went somewhere but I got Nowhere.
Step inside, don’t look down, Nowhere hides things underground.
Elsie took a deep breath, but her heart raced and she began to hyperventilate, screaming without intending to. She spun around, saw more words, and noticed with growing terror that the word ‘Nowhere’ was in every line, and it was bigger than the other words, growing larger, deeper, burning itself in her mind.
There’s a hole and a door and a drop and a light and Nowhere.
Sleep is good but Nowhere’s better.
One way ticket, next stop Nowhere.
Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere…
It flashed through her mind, and she began to chant it, unwillingly, her eyes glazed with tears that escaped down her cheeks. She stumbled back and hit the doorframe, knees buckling as she reached wildly for something to grip, but the room was still empty. The wind picked up again, suddenly, loudly, and ‘Nowhere’ was repeated over and over in her mind. She shut her eyes, but it was imprinted on her eyelids and her mind chanted it. Her mouth picked it up, quietly at first but it grew in strength until suddenly she stopped. Elsie stood, erect, head forward, shoulders back, eyes unmoving, mouth shut. She whipped around, faced the chasm and stepped into it.
Robert ambled slowly up the streets. Rounding a corner, he recognized Elsie’s backpack on the ground and thought about how she had ran from him earlier. He felt a small pang. It was almost guilt. Almost.
He looked around, wondering if she was nearby. Sometimes he pretended he cared. Sullenly he grabbed her backpack, kicked her books into the street, and took off for home.
In all fairness, he didn’t like her either, which was why she wasn’t offended when he “accidentally” tripped her as they crossed the street to school. It was their first day of high school in a new town and she felt relieved that, no matter where they lived, some things would never change.
The day passed uneventfully, with only minor inconveniences as she avoided her brother in the hallways and feigned interest in the kids around her. She focused instead on her decision to cut her black hair short and buy some smaller clothes, ones that fit her. She didn’t mind the people around her, but her desire to get home and bury under the bed covers was strong; coming from two months in Nevada and six in rural California, the New Jersey cold was worse than she expected.
Elsie ducked out of the school building and into the snow outside as quickly as possible. Her house was only a few blocks away, and she hoped to make it there before Robert was out of class. She had to ditch the second half of sixth period in order to do so, but she didn’t care. They’d probably be out of this city before long anyway. Their mother had a horrible time holding down a job.
She rounded a corner and nearly slipped on the icy ground. There Robert stood with his new buddies, showing them how to jimmy a parked car. Jerking back around the corner, she sucked in her breath and started to tiptoe in the opposite direction. She wasn’t quite sure where to go, but she’d find another route.
Crack.
The sound of ice breaking free from the edge of the sidewalk as she placed her weight on it silenced the dull speech of the boys around the corner. Not caring any longer about her safety (or perhaps caring about it more), Elsie took off at a sprint, trusting the thick rubber treads of her snow boots to save her from skidding down the icy path.
Thud.
The rock grazed her right shoulder. It didn’t hurt, not at this distance, but it threw her off balance. She heard laughter behind her, but no pursuing steps. Robert must not have thought it a battle worth fighting. Still, rocks and snowballs rained down behind her until she reached the next corner and flung herself around it.
Fairly certain she was safe for the moment, she set off searching for a way home. She wound through indistinct streets, avoiding people, not trying too hard to reach her destination. Robert had already seen her, and was probably waiting at their house. It was better if she arrived later, as he might get bored and leave. One could only hope for small miracles.
The scenery around her soon faded from solid, gray apartments and square, blocky houses to shabby office buildings with broken windows and decaying wooden shacks. Elsie was aware that she was far from any familiar part of town and that she should double back toward what she knew, but with each step she breathed in freezing air and blissful freedom. In nearly every city they lived in, she had been driven home by the police at least once, and not because she had done anything wrong. Rather, she would simply wander off, and her mother would worry and eventually call the cops. Today was certainly no different. Elsie knew her mother would call again and they’d find her and take her home, so she wasn’t afraid. Not in the slightest.
She liked this part of town, where the buildings felt like individual entities. The structures near school made her think of little green army men lined up in a row. But here, every shack had personality, each building its own graffiti, and all were worn with age and experience. She often paused to stare, to read, to wonder. But she grew tired. Her feet began to ache, her arms drooped with the weight of her books, shoulders pained from the backpack she carried. And there were no police. No one had yet come looking for her. Strange.
Elsie stopped at the next house and sat down on the chipped concrete wall that lined the property. She squinted through the snow, vaguely examining the shadowed buildings. A flash of color caught her eye, and she immediately hoped a bird had flown by. She’d hardly seen any animals since moving here, which made the city that much more unnerving. Focusing, she realized with a frown that it wasn’t a bird, but a door.
A bright red door.
On the second story.
A bright red door on the second story of a ramshackle building in a lonely part of town. A door that led straight to…air.
Really, a door that led nowhere.
She loved mysteries of this sort. Little things, out of place, stranded in the wrong time, the wrong era, the wrong…world. She dropped her books on the concrete, heedless of where they lay, and set her backpack against the wall. She stepped into the street and walked swiftly toward the house, entranced by the door. It must have been built for a reason. Someone wanted a door that led nowhere, but who? And why?
The front door was just as dull as that of every other building, the lock broken and knob tarnished. She kicked her way inside, pausing every few steps to listen. She heard nothing, not even a rat scurrying about its business. She felt along the wall until her hand reached a switch. She didn’t expect that anyone was paying an electric bill, and yet – the light switched on. The room was empty and swept clean.
She found it all so very intriguing.
The first room led to another, this one a sort of hall with stairs leading up into the darkness of the second floor. The bottom step was spotless, the second just as clean. Gradually, slowly, trying not to ruin the mysterious stillness, she climbed the stairs, noticing that each one grew dirtier. By the time she reached the top, there were piles of dust coating the dark, grainy wood. Spider webs clung to the corners where the walls met the ceiling, and the flowery wallpaper was torn and stained. It reminded her of a house they had lived in until Robert traced over the wallpaper in her room with a penknife.
The door. Elsie desperately wanted to find that door. She paused for a minute, listening, looking for a way to get her bearings. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She wasn't deterred. She would find that door, and she would find out what happened when she opened it. It was too dark to really tell where she was going, despite the light outside. She could still see no windows, merely outlines of walls and furniture. She moved slowly, trying not to trip, but her shuffling steps kicked up dust. She fanned the thick air, stifling coughs that seemed extraordinarily loud.
The first door she came to was locked. It might be worth breaking open, but only if there wasn't another option. The second door looked as if someone had already forced their way in. She tentatively pushed it open. Emptiness. A broken picture frame and, yet again, no windows. Backing out, she saw only one more door down the hallway. As she approached she noticed a difference; this one looked freshly painted, as if someone had tried to cover up a dark shade of green with a light blue.
This had to be the right one.
Her fingers hovered over the rounded brass knob, excitement at finding the mysterious door barely contained. It twisted easily, the door pushed open and…
There it was. The bright red door she had seen from the street. She hurried to it. The door was as clean as the blue one, but with one flaw: someone had carved a word into it, right at her eye level.
Nowhere.
The red door to Nowhere. Intrigued, she traced the words with her finger, drawing it away quickly as a splinter from the ‘h’ dug into her skin. Shivering with anticipation, Elsie reached her unhurt hand toward the doorknob. It twisted, slowly, resisting the movement. The more she twisted, the harder it was to open. She put her other hand on the knob and yanked the door open. A great gust of wind whirled through the archway, violently blinding her as dust and hair flew. She pushed against the door with her body, struggling to keep it open, just wanting one good look into the open hole in the wall before her efforts failed. The wind continued to blow, churning back and forth, upsetting all order in the room. Her shrieks were drowned out by its howling, and she fought desperately to keep her eyes open, to hold her hair back, and slowly she inched closer to the doorframe, and peering inside she saw darkness.
A chasm, deeper than any hole or cliff gorge she had ever seen, much deeper than the mere two stories the building seemed to have been from the outside. And from the depths came the great swirling winds, the wretched noise, the darkness seeping from below, its tendrils spreading through the entire room with no windows from which to escape. The darkness scared her, made her wish she hadn’t ever opened the door, and she moved back away from the chasm with every intention of shutting the door and never thinking of it again, when suddenly everything stopped.
The wind and shrieking sound ceased, the darkness retracted into the hole, and Elsie stood staring at the scene before her. The room was destroyed. Dust floated gently on the rank air and settled on her disarrayed clothing and matted hair. But as the room regained its silent stillness she became aware that something had changed. The carving of ‘Nowhere’ was now on the inside of the door as well. Her eyes focused and she glanced at the closest wall. Where there had been smooth wallpaper, there were now words.
Words, carved into the walls, jagged and splintered. At first there seemed to be no rhyme or pattern, just random words jumping out, all different sizes and shapes. But as she stared, she began to piece together sentences…horrible sentences, lines that she didn’t want to read, things she didn’t want to see…
There’s only one door and it leads Nowhere.
I went somewhere but I got Nowhere.
Step inside, don’t look down, Nowhere hides things underground.
Elsie took a deep breath, but her heart raced and she began to hyperventilate, screaming without intending to. She spun around, saw more words, and noticed with growing terror that the word ‘Nowhere’ was in every line, and it was bigger than the other words, growing larger, deeper, burning itself in her mind.
There’s a hole and a door and a drop and a light and Nowhere.
Sleep is good but Nowhere’s better.
One way ticket, next stop Nowhere.
Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere Nowhere…
It flashed through her mind, and she began to chant it, unwillingly, her eyes glazed with tears that escaped down her cheeks. She stumbled back and hit the doorframe, knees buckling as she reached wildly for something to grip, but the room was still empty. The wind picked up again, suddenly, loudly, and ‘Nowhere’ was repeated over and over in her mind. She shut her eyes, but it was imprinted on her eyelids and her mind chanted it. Her mouth picked it up, quietly at first but it grew in strength until suddenly she stopped. Elsie stood, erect, head forward, shoulders back, eyes unmoving, mouth shut. She whipped around, faced the chasm and stepped into it.
Robert ambled slowly up the streets. Rounding a corner, he recognized Elsie’s backpack on the ground and thought about how she had ran from him earlier. He felt a small pang. It was almost guilt. Almost.
He looked around, wondering if she was nearby. Sometimes he pretended he cared. Sullenly he grabbed her backpack, kicked her books into the street, and took off for home.
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