=320= Stories to Tell: Pandora Box

The pellets of water covered all over my body, washing off the foam along with the dirt. Oh what a pleasure it is to have all my worries be washed away together with the water.

I rubbed off some of the remaining foam and pressed for some shampoo. I continued to wash the shampoo of my hair.

“Bang!” The muffled sound through the doors of the washroom resonated through.

I got worried. What happened?

Hence, I raised my voice, “Ma, what happened?”

I received no reply.

I stopped the shower head and opened the glass door of the shower. I yelled again, “Ma, what happened? Don’t scare me!”

At this point, my mind started to overthink and speculate. I begin to panic. I quickly put on my clothes and when I was about to open the door, “NO! Stop! Do not open that door!” I heard my Mum’s voice through the door.

“What happened?” I asked while being a bit more relieved after hearing my mother’s voice.

“I have no time to explain to you” My mom said, sounding pretty rushed and panicky. Is it just me or she sounded like she is crying? “I will turn off your toilet lights, stay in there and make no noise! Come out only in the morning!”

“Wait! Ma, where is Da…”before I could finish my sentence, my toilet lights went out. I then heard my mum running away from my toilet door. 

Though I am normally scared of the dark, I can’t bring myself to be scared of it now. I mean something is makin…

Then I heard it.

A sound I heard before.

A sound that I will never forget again.

“Bang!” I heard the muffled bang again. This time it was clearer. I am pretty certain of what sound was that.

It was a gun shot.

I covered my mouth so as to not cry out loud. My tears started to pour. Bearing my mum’s instruction in mind, I restrained the urge to rush out of the toilet door or yell out,”Mummy, are you alright?!”

I used my fist to hit my thighs so that it will make as little noise as possible. Why? Why am I so useless? I can’t even protect my own Mother, what kind of a man am I? Where is Dad when she needed him.

That was when I realised that the first bang was actually my Dad getting shot.

No.

No.

No.

I started weeping again. I sink down to the floor and used it to cover my face. The floor was still slightly wet from the shower, but I couldn’t even perceive it. My whole being was consumed by the thoughts of my parents being shot and them protecting me.

I have no idea how long I cried. I didn’t have my phone or a watch inside the toilet with me so I couldn’t tell the time. After crying for the longest period of my life, the tears ran out and my eyes were dry. I lightly released the tap, used my palm to collect the water and washed my eyes.

After washing my eyes, I looked around me and it was really too cramped. I put down the toilet cover and sat down. Just how much longer do I need to be in here?

The only source of light left in the toilet is the lamp outside of my house, shining through the toilet window. Ironically, the light shone directly at the toilet door.

Never did notice the toilet door with so much detail. It is wood I know, but I never did noticed that it was actually covered with a wall paper. The wall paper wasn’t pasted properly and you can still see some air bubbles. The door handle was the type that my old classroom had. It was those with the lever and the spring loaded lock button in the middle. The handle stared at me, as though mocking my existence as a Son. I can’t believe I didn’t have the guts to step out to protect my parents. How are they now? Should I go out now? What if they are shot and need me to go help them?

For the first time in my life, I felt so useless.

Another hour must have passed for now I am getting a bit sleepy. I really wonder if I slept and woke up, will it be a dream?

My eyes opened and I realised that my head was on the wall. The light outside was replaced with the warm sunlight. I have sat on the toilet bowl for the whole night.

It is morning. 

I can open the door now.

But will I dare to open it?

I do not know.

I fear that if I open it, my world would have changed forever.

The door handle mocked me again. Mocked me of my cowardice. Mocked my lack of resolution to stay alive.

I put my hand on the handle, not knowing if I should open the door.

~

Well, I decided to leave the ending a bit more open ended. Will he open the door? Will he not? If he does open it, what kind of a world is he opening to?

I leave you with a few endings, see which one(s) do you like.

1. He opens the door and realised that his parents didn’t die, they actually planned for a birthday party for him.
This ending is pretty lame, but yeah, it could be a possible ending.

2. He opens the door only to see the killer outside and he shoots him right away.
This ending quite anti-climatic. However, it does develop the killer. The killer won’t just be a robber. It will be a person with a grudge with his family and quite a sadistic one at that. Considering that he waited the whole night to torture him mentally, give him hope, only to take it away.

3. He walks out to see his parents on the floor. Passed out due to shock but still alive.
This ending would probably the best good ending. No one dies, he may have a grudge on the person, but now he treasures life WAY more. He will start to take care of his parents better too.

4. He walks out to see his parents on the floor. He put his finger out to feel for breath, but there isn’t any. He touches the body and the body was still warm. He could have saved them if he came out a bit earlier.
This is the most tragic. To be tortured mentally inside the toilet only to realise that you could have saved them; that you left them out to die. You will blame yourself for their deaths and be scarred for life.

After that, he will notice that his entire house was thrashed. All drawers were out, phone was thrashed too. He notices the door to outside. Now he has to make the decision of whether he wants to open the door or not. Will he dare to do it? What will motivate him to open the door to a world that just changed forever for him. What will motivate him to open the door to a physical world that is indifferent? What will motivate him to keep on living?

No, the right question is,

“How will he live his life?”

-Kelvin- 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s