Wrongly Accused_The Purge Door_Butterfly Convention_I was
Catalog Guide:
Wrongly Accused
As I walk through the crowd of people, they late and sneer at me. Making a path for me, they make it clearly evident that they would like to be nowhere near me. In their eyes you can see a pang of instilled fear. The media and press turned me into a monster. Everyone fears me now. They fall silent until I pass through and continue my trek alone. Left with only my thoughts and the click clacking of my heels on the sidewalk. People whisper, point and stare as I walk by. I can’t even leave my house anymore without feeling like I’m being prosecuted all over again. The city doesn’t welcome me, not...
The Purge Door
One of the doors read Purge and the other Death, I guess I didn’t earn a place in whatever is better. I’m no genius but my best bet is that Death is no better than Purge so the choice is obvious. I put my hand on the doorknob with hesitance, I take one last look around the empty place, maybe there’s something far ahead that gives me more options. Yet I don’t think I deserve it so I highly doubt it. I turn the doorknob, once the door is open all I see inside is darkness, I peek out to see if the other door is still there but it’s gone so I walk in and shut the door. I hear a crisp sound and tur...
Butterfly Convention
"Your name is Farha this time."Farha nods."You know what to do?""Yes, I'll get started right away."Farha swipes her phone to end the call, fingers easily gliding over the smooth surface.Another day, another name, another identity. If I succeed, the cycle contwww.onedoor.ccinues...Farha walks into a dingy little motel and requests a room. Before noon, she's set up. Computers line every wall, blue light floods the space, filling every crevice. She spends 20 minutes coding, before opening her phone to call a saved number,"Hi, yes, I just wanted to confirm my ticket for the butterfly expo? Yes, I just registere...
I was
The choking effect of not being able to move forward has placed me in a state of unrest yet in a state of genuine peace. I would place the unfathomable amnesia as trails of crumbs that seemingly has no end. My hands quiver anytime I'm asked the question, “Who are you?”, because I do not have an answer to that. It's 5:30am and I hear the alarm ring. I carefully hoist myself from the bed, trying not to wake anyone. My chest tightens whenever Alex stirs from his sleep. I'm not trying to run away, I just don't want to wake him. Making my way to the bathroom, I strip from my gown, fully exposing my...