Flash Fiction: The Light Underneath The Door

In the dark of his room, he sits and sees the light that comes out from underneath a door. Not a light is on in his room, not even the usually on computer screen. His head hurts, throbs even, and the darkness is the only thing that makes the pain even slow, even lessen a little. But, he also lives alone, and that light does not make sense.

It does not lead outside; it leads to some room he’d rather not travel into, now, or at any moment. His mother took her own life in that room, and he would rather it remain closed for a long, long time.

But, the light glows more, and he stands up from his little rickety office chair. The computer still sits in sleep mode, and his ceiling fan chugs along silently.

He takes a step, and the light fluctuates. Running through a few colors, fast, like a party’s in that room. A rave going at full visuals, but none of the sound. He feels as if each footfall is intense and making the earth quiver—he’s certainly quivering.

The door handle, then, spins fast. But not rotating all the way. In the dark, in the silence, it is so loud. He instinctively grabs out for that handle and holds it. The metal superheats underneath his fingers, and he doggedly stays on it for a moment before rearing back and trying to stifle his own shouts of pain.

“Ow…” escapes his lips, and it causes the door to shake. The light spins across the entire visual spectrum before going dark. No further sound exists for a long time; he does not dare to add to it. He backs away, all the way up to his window, debating going right out that window.

He is relieved he is on the first floor, or this would be a much more dangerous situation. That relief lasts until the door groans and collapses off its hinges, and white light eats the space in front of him. He covers his eyes and braces for some impact.

When none comes, he opens his eyes, slowly, and peers at the room that is in front of him. Rather, the lack of a room. Just a red haze, with some faint glimmers of a far-off sun. He considers the window, yet again.

Two eyes open, and hang there in the colorful backdrop, with no determinable body attached. Blue eyes with a tired bittersweet look on them stare at him. They are watching him as though gazing upon the sleeping face of someone you love, but have somehow wronged.

Along with it, after a moment, comes a mouth. A small, friendly mouth, with a childlike innocent smile on it. He beholds all of this, his body shaking even harder from the sudden energy coming off this strange creature.

Then, he turns, darts to his security system’s panel, and dives out of the window as the siren blares. The scream of it, the hollering audio alert, overcomes anything that the being might have had to say to him. Even if it knows the secret to world peace, well, it’s too late for him to find out now.

Oh well.



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