If you are reading this, then I haven’t come home. Yet. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone but I know where Delilah is, and I’m going to bring her home.
Do you remember that door? The one in the empty house we used to play in back when we lived on Levi street? The green one with the brass rabbit head door knocker?
You and dad always said we had wild imaginations. And for the longest time, I tried to believe that too. Because what we saw on the other side of that door was impossible. Literally impossible. How can a door open to another world? I don’t know. But it did. I know it did. It’s not a fantasy or coping mechanism. Dr. Wallace is wrong. I saw with my own two eyes how we pushed it open, and walked through into an endless meadow of flowers and grass and trees and light. A place the little people called The Yonder. They were about the size of cats, and they were always so much fun. Whenever we used to visit, they’d always show me and Delilah something new and exciting. Waterfalls made of sand, fruits sweeter than candy, and paper wings you could fly with to name a few. You’ll just have to trust me on this, I know how insane it sounds. But no matter how many of those pills I take I can’t convince myself it wasn’t real. Even after all these years.
I’ll never forget our last day. Delilah and I were on our way back out the door when it happened. My biggest regret is not letting her through first, because once I walked through, the door slammed shut behind me. So I opened it again, only to find the Yonder gone. The other side of the door was just an old bathroom. I knocked on it, I reopened it, I tried everything to get it to work, but that was when the house fell down. And well, you know the rest of that story.
The reason we never found her body was because she was never there. She wasn’t caught in the rubble. She’s in the Yonder. I know she’s alive. I’ve done my research. There’s a guy up north who found a door too. A green one with a brass rabbit head door knocker. I can’t tell you exactly where because you’ll tell the cops to take me home, and I don’t blame you. Even I think I’m crazy. And I know you’ll worry about me even if you believed my story. I’m sorry.
But mom, this guy says he’s met her. Delilah. A red head teenager that lives in a world behind an impossible door. I left the photo he sent me in the drawer to the right. It’s definitely her. Albeit, an older version we haven’t seen before, but I know my sisters face anywhere.
I’m going to bring her home, mom. I promise.
499 words phew
Ill crit your stories pls crit mine I wanna get good
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