Hoid Slayer

All we are is choices. They define us, a series of infinitely small steps, each taking us in a new direction. Yet, each a perfect product of all that came before, are they truly ours to make? Or just to walk? It’s simple cause and effect. Cause and effect makes sense, right? But right now, reality begs to differ, because there is a door in my room. It is open, and it was not there before. 

It sits next to my usual one, and looks the same, too. It cannot be; yet, it is. 

I stride to the door, and step through. Nothing big happens. It leads straight into our corridor, right where the other door goes. I sneak a glance. It’s still there. Closed. Then I look at what awaits before me, and walk. 

Now I hear voices. Sounds like… Mark. Mark, and my sister, and is that… Alice? Yes, she’s there, and someone else. Carefully, painfully aware of the sharp feel of my bare feet on the cold floor, I turn the corner. My sister is getting tackled, but she’s giggling. She yells something at me, probably to get Mark off, but I don’t hear her. Because my heart has stopped. 

She is there. Sitting on the couch, she looks up and sees me. Her eyes meet mine, a perfect glint as the light catches them just right. Just like it did that night. When I stood by, and watched her slip away. 

“Where’s the thing?” I don’t respond, still stuck. She’s confused. “The… thing you went to get?” At last, I answer. My voice cracks. 

“Give me a second.” 

I turn around, and hurry back the way I came. As soon as I walk back through the door, I close it, and breathe. The hell? This can’t be a dream; no, the beat of my heart is too real. As I pace, reeling, the sound of a person coming in causes me to jump - and again, I freeze as I see who it is. It’s me. Me, but his hair is shorter, he’s wearing a plain t-shirt. He came in through the weird door - I hadn’t noticed this room had one too - and he, too, freezes when he sees me. He runs a hand through his hair, stops, opens his mouth, and then a knock interrupts him. 

“Hoid?” It’s her. She’s there, outside that door. I look at me, and he looks back. Then I stand up, and brush past him on my way out. One last time, we face each other. He nods. I don’t know whether to nod back. As we split, I see him carrying a set of dice in his hand, see him open his door as I step through and close mine, but leave a crack open. Just enough to see her face, see her lips on his. Then the crack closes, and it’s over. Once again, I’m back in my room. There are no more voices. 

Just me.