Friday, September 12, 2014

Short Story: Escaping Agoraphobia

She sits in the window sill, draped in the folds of her worn blankets, looking outside. The world is changing outside. She touches the glass, stares intently to the world outside, longingly taking in every detail. She presses her forehead against the glass, her eyes refusing to well up any longer. Her heart beats with such abandon and she slams the glass weakly with her fist, but nothing will change unless she makes things change, and she knows that. She falls back against the side of the window, her head rests to the side.
The front door opens and her boyfriend comes in. He slowly takes off his boots and his jacket. She turns to watch him but says nothing.
"You have to leave the house sometime," he tells her before leaving the room.
"I can't," she whispers to herself. "I can't leave."
When he wanders back in she finally speaks to him.
"I'm lonely," she says.
"That's your own fault. I can't stay in here day in and day out with you. I have a life. I have things to do. I'm not like you."
"Just stay with me for a little while. Please?"
"No," he yells at her. "I can't do this! I need to get out of here."
He storms out the door.
"Wait!" She climbs out of the window and follows him to the front door which slams in her face, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't make herself open the door. She hasn't left the house in months. She can't. She doesn't know how.
She hears the car start outside and then listens as it fades away into the distance.
He's gone.
She hears herself start to scream in frustration, then in despair. She pounds on the door but can't force herself to put her hand on the door knob. She starts to feel like an idiot. Her emotions overwhelm her until she feels that she can't hold still any longer. She flings the door open and steps outside.
The cold is like an awakening. The wind bites at her skin and snaps her hair around her face violently. She welcomes the feeling.
Her boyfriend is long gone, but the snow and the cold are inviting to her. Now that she is finally outside, she never wants to go back in. She is afraid that if she goes back now, she may never escape.
Her bare feet make prints in the snow only to be quickly covered. Her face burns and her fingers are numb, but she doesn't care.
She escapes into the storm and fades into the wall of white.

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