Don’t Open the Small Red Door
Part 1 of 3
My mother always told me to keep the tiny red door in the upstairs bedroom closed and locked. She would make jokes about something coming out to get me if I left it open. It was never a big deal to me to keep it closed. I wasn’t even that interested in seeing what was in there. Normally, she would remind me before she left for work that night and I would hear her and just go back to playing my video games.
The upstairs bedroom had a slanted ceiling. I’m not sure what you call them, but it made the room look like the shape of a right triangle. It was a massive triangle. The carpet was light grey in color with small stains here and there from the previous tenants and my siblings and me. We’re kids and we aren’t always that careful with our food and drinks. Sitting between the couch and the entertainment center was a very large rug decorated with green and gold circles. This was and still is the softest rug I’ve ever walked on. The walls were painted a very light olive color and the trim was dark brown. I loved the way the room looked.
The room had very few pieces of furniture in it. It had a couch that three to four people could sit on, a recliner, and then a small entertainment center for our television. We had a couple of gaming systems that were located in that room. I guess you could call it a family room, but it was mostly used by my siblings, me, and, of course, our friends.
The tiny red door sat in the opposite corner of the entrance to the room. It stood about two feet tall and it was around three feet wide. It was an odd little door. There was no telling how old this door was because the handle and lock are something out of the Victorian era. I was never really worried about the door. I was always busy doing some other task in the room.
However, one night I started hearing scratching from behind the small red door. At first, it was faint, but then it grew louder. It wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t focus on my game, but it was enough to make my skin crawl. There wasn’t supposed to be anything in that room. My mom hadn't mentioned anything to me about keeping something locked up in there.
After about 20 minutes of non-stop scratching, I called my older sister into the room to see if she could hear it. She walked in and immediately her eyes shifted to the small door. She had heard it. I wasn’t going crazy. She then looked at me and narrowed her eyes.
“What did you do?”
I was confused. What did she mean by “what did I do?” It’s not like I opened the door and locked something in there.
“I didn’t do anything. I called you up here because I wanted to make sure that you could hear it too. I have no idea what’s making that noise.”
My sister just stared at me and then at the door. She made this movement two or three times before she slowly walked towards the door on the opposite end of the room. I was worried she was going to open the door. Mom had already told us that the door was to stay closed and never be opened.
“Jamie, don’t open the door.”
She looked back at me like I had just said something very stupid.
“I’m not going to open the door. Mom would kill us, but I would like to put my ear to the door to see if I can hear anything else.”
My sister, Jamie, walked over to the door and placed her right ear to the door. I was cringing the entire time. All I could think about was something opening the door, reaching out, and grabbing her.
Oddly enough, about 10 to 20 seconds after her ear touched the door, the scratching stopped. She looked over at me with a confused glance. I was confused, too. It was almost as if whatever was behind the door knew that she was on the other side of it.
“The scratching stopped. I also can’t hear anything else. I feel like if there was someone behind the door, I would have heard them move away from the door.”
I agreed with her. It just doesn't make sense. What was causing the scratching behind the door? My sister Jamie took her ear away from the door and sat down directly in front of it. She just stared at it for a moment and then turned her head. She looked back at me with a confusing look on her face.
“Do you not hear the voice?”
I was a little taken aback by her question. I didn’t hear any voice. She quickly jumped up and walked quickly to the other side of the room and stood next to me. Her face was pale and she looked sick.
“Jamie, what did you hear?”
She just glanced over at me and shook her head. We stood there in silence for what seemed like forever.
“Avery, the thing behind the door asked me if I wanted to play a game. It also knew my name. It sounded like a girl, but it was almost as if there were multiple voices when it said some of the words.”
I just stared at her. She had completely lost her mind. I heard the scratching, but I didn’t hear any voices. It was then that the knob on the door started to twist. It made a very small squeaking noise as it turned both ways. Normally when something wants out, the turning of the doorknob is much more aggressive and dramatic. However, it was like someone was toying with us on the other side of that door. It would slowly turn to the left and then back to the right. It did this for 2 or 3 minutes and then I heard it.
“Avery? Jamie? I have a game I would like to play with both of you. It doesn’t require you to open the door. I only need you to talk to me and speak only the truth. I will know if you lie and if you do, there will be consequences.”
I heard multiple voices underneath what seemed like a female voice. Jamie was crazy. I wish she was though. I’m not sure what to do now. Jamie, quickly, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the large family room, and shut the door. I followed her down the stairs and she frantically paced back and forth in the kitchen.
“What do we do? Do you think mom knew about what was in there? Do you think that’s the reason we aren’t allowed to open the door?”
I was trying to listen to her frantic questions, but all my brain could focus on was the voice from upstairs calling my name from behind that small red door. It just kept repeating my name in a very light, yet creepy whisper.
I decided to calm my sister down and convince her that we would just go to mom when she got home in the morning. We would figure all of this out and until then, we would just stay out of the upstairs family room. She nodded in agreement, but I could still tell she was shaken up. We decided to make a pallet downstairs in the living room so we wouldn’t have to be alone for the night.
After three 90’s rom-coms and a very sad movie that I can’t remember the name to, I realized my sister had finally fallen asleep. This was my chance.
I had to figure out what that voice was behind the door. I needed to know what it wanted and why it was here. I needed to find all this out on my own because I think my mom knows about it. I think she chose to keep this from us. Maybe she thought whatever it was would never make itself known.
I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.