The Wrong Door

by Thomas Baines

It was a room to which I took an almost instant dislike - there seeming to be an air of deceit about it. Not as though it was obnoxious in any way - far from it. At first glance it appeared perfect. In fact it was too perfect, being spick-and-span and obviously furnished by someone with an eye for good taste.

All rooms seem to have a message to deliver, quite often at the instigation of the owner in an effort to impress, though that in itself could be a deception. Such deceit is often deemed necessary, for that person could be living a sham existence - we are all actors in one way or another - as a matter of fact, the only time many of us are off-stage is when we are asleep. A room of course cannot actually speak and tell us about itself or its owner, but in some cases it is intended to be a mute exhibition of good taste and opulence, also a visual character reference. Though no matter how much it impresses you there is always something that belies its intended appearance, and if you search you may find it. ... The room I entered was no mean exception. This I sensed, hence my dislike of it.

I don't know how I came to be there. All I know is that I had been asleep, and when I awoke I got up then went to the door at the far end of the corridor outside my bedroom. Throughout my stay there I had never seen anyone use that door, and it had always been closed. What made me go to it at that particular time puzzled me, but nevertheless I had no hesitation in entering the room via it. I then felt a sudden urge to get out of the room - it frightened me! But there was a strange compulsion within me that seemed to treat any thoughts of exit as a forbidden luxury. It was therefore with feelings of trepidation that I involuntarily went to the nearest chair, there to sit like an inert prisoner of that encircling room. The chair was very comfortable in fact it appeared to be too comfortable for my situation. That in itself seemed to complement a strange feeling that I was being compromised.

It was another door at the side of the room that held my attention, for I knew that somebody would enter by it. I didn't have long to wait for it to slowly open to reveal my visitor - a very beautiful young woman wearing a close-fitting black evening gown. ... With her dark flashing eyes and swept-back black hair, she was the most attractive woman that I had ever seen - not so much in a sensual way, but nevertheless her femininity made her both bewitching and very desirable to me.

She smiled as I stood to greet her. ... Ignoring my "Hello!" she seated herself opposite to me. As she did so, she asked me to sit. Then emitting an enticing smile, said, "I am very pleased to welcome you here - we have been looking forward to meeting you."

'We,' I immediately thought. 'Who are we?'

I was about to put the question to her, but before I could do so she looked about herself in a self-satisfied way and said, "Before we leave, I must ask what you think of the room - don't you find it very comfortable?"

At once I realised that the room was hers, and therefore its inherent deceptions were of her making. This and her reference to us leaving, made me hesitate.

"Come!" she said, "You must tell me what you really think - you should speak frankly - it is very important that you do so."

I was initially hesitant, but her eyes seemed to implore me to tell exactly how I felt. "Well," I said, "It's beautiful and appears to signify the height of good taste, and the chair is the most comfortable that I have ever sat on. ... But, em ..."

My hesitancy was short-lived, for her voice was quite firm as she exclaimed, "Carry on with what you were saying!"

"... B-But nevertheless," I continued, "To be perfectly honest I don't like it - it isn't at all what it appears to be. Even though I can't readily see any evidence of it, I know it is full of things that signify deception. It should be very comforting, but I have never felt so uneasy in the whole of my li-."

"Stop!" she exclaimed in an alarmed voice as she jumped to her feet. ... Then letting out a sigh of resignation, added in a wearisome voice, "There has obviously been a mistake, you shouldn't be here. I think you had better go." She gave me a peculiar look then added in an almost sinister voice, "I'll see you again - that is a promise!" This was followed by a strange laugh as she kept repeating, "A promise - a promise - a promise - a prom..." Her voice was fading as I seemed to sink into a deep sleep.

"Sister! Sister! He's coming round." ... It was my wife's voice that seemed to disturb my deep slumber.

There was a short pause then I heard another woman's voice very close to me, say, "You're right - it looks as though he could be through the crisis - I'll get the doctor, right away!"

"Oh, thank God! Thank God!" exclaimed my wife as she burst into tears.

That was twelve days ago. ... The hospital's senior consultant has since told me that I am the luckiest man alive, having survived a complete relapse immediately after major surgery - they had brought me out of the operating theatre fully expecting me to be dead by the following morning. ... All the signs are, that given time I should be able to lead a normal and active life again.

I have never before told anyone about what happened in that room. And have since found out it is an empty disused storeroom that is normally kept locked. Next to its entry door from the corridor is the door to the hospital mortuary - there is an adjoining door between the two rooms.

I now know that the only reason I am still alive, is the fact that I went too soon and entered the room by the wrong door - I should have gone to the mortuary first. And if my curiosity ever gets the better of me, or whenever fate decrees it, she will be in that room of deception waiting to greet me. ... Then the door I use will be the right one.

Thomas Baines - 2010

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The Wrong Door