The Blue Door — A Mystery
children’s fiction
Mark stood at the threshold of his new house and observed the dusty bookshelves, splintered windowsills, and worn-down wooden floors. “Awesome,” he thought as he ran a finger down one grimy window, “what next, rats under my bed?”
His mother came through the door behind him carrying boxes of random odds and ends. He could see a small bead of sweat trickle its way down her forehead as she smiled and said, “Mark, honey, will you please help me with these. I’m just not as strong as I used to be.”
As he dropped off the boxes from one random room to another, he stopped when he noticed a small blue door hidden in shadows in one of the back rooms. He tried the tiny doorknob to find it locked. He also noticed odd scratches at the base of the door as if they come from under the door. A small shudder went down his back as his imagination began picturing monsters with razor claws and hungry gnashing teeth trying to force their way through their prison door.
He left the door behind to go question his mom if she knew anything about it. What he didn’t see as he walked out of the room was the slanted eye staring at him through the doorknob keyhole nor did he hear the tiny desperate scratching of claws on wood.
Later at dinner, Mark and his mom sat crossed-legged at a small picnic on the living room floor. His mom had lit some candles as the electricity wasn’t working and she would have to call in the morning to see if someone could come out to fix it. His mother had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, like usual, making her tiny frail figure seem even smaller and more fragile.
He kissed his mother goodnight, laid two tiny tablets on the yellow patterned blanket for his mother, and then began the trek up the stairs to his new bedroom. His flashlight caused moving shadows as he climbed the creaky staircase and turned into the first bedroom on the right.
He had yet to unpack so there were plenty of boxes taking up the space on the walls. He lay on his bed and made figure eights with the flashlight as he let his mind wander to earlier and happier days. He could still smell his father’s cologne and feel his strong arms comforting him after hearing the news of his mother.
A single tear found its way down Mark’s face and then anger flashed before his eyes. Anger at his father’s weaknesses, anger at how fragile the human body can be, maybe even anger at himself for not fighting harder to keep them all together.
A sound jolted him from his thinking. He wasn’t even sure what he had heard but it was definitely something. His mother’s bedroom was on the first floor and he had no siblings. “Maybe there are rats after all,” thought Mark. He ran his flashlight slowly around the floor looking for a cause for the sound but nothing struck him as out of place.
He decided to go check on his mother just in case she was feeling ill again. He padded to the door and then down the dark stairway toward his mother’s bedroom. The house was quite creepy without any lights and he silently wished he were young enough to crawl in bed with his mother.
Again he heard the sound and this time it made him jump. His flashlight went wildly around him looking for anything that could be the cause. It sounded like a shuffling of heavy feet and a desperate scratching sound. “Okay, maybe huge fat rats?” Mark was thinking he might just crawl in his mother anyways.
He found his mother’s room with the door cracked open but she was fast asleep. Her breathing was shallow but definitely there. He tucked the blanket over his mother’s tiny shoulders and kissed her on the forehead before starting back to his room.
As he closed her door, he heard the sound again. He followed it, flashing his light in all directions afraid to miss whatever was causing the horrible sound. That is when he saw the little blue door again. Something flashed in the lights of his flashlight and slid back under the door. His heart jumped to his throat and his feet felt like they were full of lead. Had that been a claw??
Mark wasn’t sure if he had the courage to go closer. He had seen too many scary movies to know better. In those movies, it was always the stupid kid walking over to some creepy something or other in the middle of the night and always getting into trouble. Mark was always yelling at the actors, “What are you doing?? No sane person would do that!!” Now here he was in his own scary movie moment and he was actually tempted to see if he was imagining things.
He weighed his options. He could either try to convince himself that he didn’t see something and go to bed and be up all night flashing his light at every sound he thinks he hears… or he could just check it out and either be killed or relieve his fears. “I mean, this isn’t a movie,” thought Mark as he inched his way toward the strange little door. He kept reminding himself that scary movies weren’t real and neither were monsters behind little blue doors as he found his way slowly toward the back of the room.
He wasn’t going to risk sticking his eye up to the keyhole to look through (come on, we have all seen scary movies before), so he used his flashlight to tap lightly on the door itself. He jumped back expecting the worst but nothing happened. He sat staring at the door. His body was rigid with fear and he could feel the blood pumping in his head. And then he heard the whispering.
“Please… release me. I’m trapped. Save me. Save me. Release me.” A slight scratching sound could be heard behind the eerie voice. “Just open the door…”
At first, Mark wasn’t able to move or think. His mind was frozen in panic and he had visions of whatever was hiding killing him in his sleep.
“Uh… hello? Who are you? How did you get in there? How LONG have you been in there?” He hated that his voice sounded strained and scared but come ON a monster was whispering creepily through a forgotten blue door in his new house. He was due to be a little freaked out!
He heard a groan (an annoyed groan?) before there was another shuffling and still that incessant scratching. “Too long, too long. Release me. Save me. The key is under the door. Reach in and grab it. Release me.”
“Uh, no offense, but there is no way I am reaching my hand under a door that has a creepy voice coming from it.” Mark felt proud of himself for thinking so clearly under such scary circumstances.
The key came flying out from under the door and landed at his feet. “Forget this!” yelled Mark and he bolted to his mother’s room and woke her in a panic.
I actually created this story many years ago as an inference activity for my students. They always enjoy this activity and always wanted me to finish the story… maybe I finally will :)
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