II | Some Doors
❦
My eyes
take forever
to adjust
to the darkness
again.
I’m in an empty foyer.
There’s nothing here,
I think,
and then we’re
halfway across the room,
facing the door
on the other side.
The woman
taps a card again,
another concealed card reader,
and the double doors
slide open.
It’s the size of a prison cell.
We’re staring
at a mirror
in the wall facing us.
For the first time
in a long time,
I see my own reflection.
How long has it been?
❦
The woman pulls me by the hand
towards the gaunt, haunted girl
reflected in the prison wall
and I wrench
my hand from hers
to run away.
She has me by the shoulders,
she’s talking
over the flood of my laughter.
Then, she lets go of me.
I stare,
(horrified)
as she enters the cell
on her own
and presses a button
on the panel by the door.
The cell
beeps
and I see beads of LED lights
beside the card reader.
UPPER ROOM.
The woman
has a patient smile
that almost looks
taunting.
She intercepts
the closing doors
with a hand.
Beckons to me.
I step
into the lift
and turn away
from the girl
in the mirror.
The journey upwards
is a lot longer
than I expected
but finally the doors open
to reveal
another set of doors
and a corridor.
The doors
in front of us
are labelled
UPPER ROOM.
The woman
takes my hand
and tugs me
down the corridor.
This corridor
is lined with many doors
on one side,
all of them labelled
UPPER ROOM.
❦
At the end of the corridor,
I’m ushered into
another lift.
This one goes down
to another large room
like the one
we first entered
only without
windows.
The sounds of our footsteps
echo
on the hard linoleum floor.
With another flash
of her card,
the woman unlocks
another door
to another
similar-looking corridor.
We walk
till we get to
the door at the end.
She squeezes my hand—
an indication
that we won’t have to walk through anymore doors?
Her card flashes,
the door clicks open.
And we’re faced
with another door.
the door behind us closes first,
then the ones in front
open
into a hall
with heavy curtains
on wrought iron windows,
ornate armchairs
carved out of the ground,
plush carpet
that my bare feet
sink into,
and
real people
walking around.
I pull my hand
from hers.
Two more women in white uniforms
appear
from behind a wall
like ghosts.
Smiling ghosts.
The one with a bob
waves at me
like I’m a little child.
The other
just talks to the one
in the trench coat.
I look at her properly
now.
She looks like a model.
Long hair.
Curled at the ends.
Sharply-drawn lipstick.
My file changes hands.
She ignores
my stare.
The plain one
fights for my attention.
Searching my eyes,
for what?
For a while
we stand by the door
that has clicked shut.
The women
know what they’re doing.
I’m the only one
disoriented.
‘This is not my home,’ I tell the plain one.
‘Who are you?’
Her smile is patient,
proud.
Not patronising,
not even a little bit.
This is your new home.
We’re nurses.
I’m staring at her smile.
Her mouth doesn’t change shape
even as I hear the words:
Welcome to Wonderland.
❦
