The secret door opened into my bedroom. I was really confused for a minute. Why would
there be a secret door in my bedroom? That’s just weird. Then, I remembered the mess that it
made. I remember all the things it ate. I remembered the distress it caused on my family. That
must be how the raccoon got in. Abigail Hammond
The secret door opened into a dark room. There was absolutely nothing there but emptiness. I tried to look around, searching for something. The door had been so beautiful. How could nothing be held behind something that had been so glorious? Suddenly, I remembered how to see through the dark room. It happened so quickly, a light turned on and I was able to see a bedroom. My bedroom. Apparently I forgot that to see after waking up, I need to open my eyes. Brianna Griesenauer
The secret door opened into many families huddled together. All of their heads turned in our direction as we slowly made our way in, and I could tell they weren’t happy about having three more mouths to feed. Who knew how long we would have to be here? I could understand why they kept this place a secret - it looked fully-stocked and prepared for emergency, but the more people who came in, the less it would last us. I hoped, I prayed, that the radiation would go down soon, and we wouldn’t have to worry about running out of supplies. But for now, we had to deal with the important things - like staying alive. So as my sister shut the door, I asked the most important question. “Do you have showers?” Caitlin O'Toole
The secret door opened into a small room. The only thing inside is a single solitary box that sits in the middle of the floor. I slowly crept forward and lifted the box off the ground. It is dusty, old, and smells like the back of my grandparents' closet. I grip the lid and open it, thus releasing a puff of dust directly into my face. I start to cough and hack to get the dust out of my lungs. While this is going on I am completely unaware of something crawling out of the box and through the open door behind me. Carly Nims
The secret door opened into a secret garden. It was just like the one in my book. The grass sprung up and sweetly curled around flower buds that littered the ground. I imagined Mary Lennox, Dickon Sowerby, and Colin Craven running around the rose bushes and tilling the loamy earth to yield tulip blooms. Above me, a crow flew overhead and landed in one of the rose vines that swallowed the stone walls. I imagined seeing Dickon and Mary feeding and playing with all of Dickon’s animal companions. I could almost hear the laughter of the children who spent so many joyful hours here. Where had they gone? Caroline Cunningham
The secret door opened into darkness. Or so we thought. We looked at each other, not confused, just surprised that it was so dark. “Well I’m not going first,” I said to my friend, who just sighed dramatically in response. She pushed me out of the way, stuck her leg in, and made a face that cannot be described with words. She pulled her leg out of the void to reveal...nothing. There was nothing there; her leg was just gone. We both stared at each other, then started screaming hysterically and somehow, in the chaos, I knocked her into the vacant space. Her screaming stopped suddenly, and I just gazed in horror into the darkness. After several moments of silence and thinking that I had just involuntarily murdered my best friend, she finally yells something. I never thought I would be so relieved to hear two simple words; “MY LEG!” Cora McGrail
The secret door opened into a bright spring day. It was a scene you might see in a fairy tale: birds chirping, sun shining. Then that’s when I realized it was a illusion. The bright spring day turned into a dark, creepy cave, with three passageways to go down that all looked equally ominous. Skittering came from all directions. I was in a different scene, one that would paralyze most people in utter terror, because the doorway was enchanted. It showed a seemingly amazing opportunity that turned sour. It was like a sugar-coated lemon, sweet on the outside but actually sour. This doorway revealed the truth. Elizabeth Dill
The secret door opened into a world unbeknownst to me. The door opened into a garden. In this garden, there were flowers that I had never seen. I could hear music, although I knew nothing was playing. I heard the door close behind me, and I took this as an opportunity to explore. As I began walking around, I felt nothing but comfort. It was oddly warm. I felt as if I was being wrapped in a hug. I was able to smell the flowers and admire the greenery. The walls were made of plants, almost like a maze. I heard someone talking, and I followed the sound. Tears immediately stung my eyes as I recognized the voice. I didn’t want it to be true, but at the same time I have never felt so desperate to see someone as I was then. I ran through the garden, looking around for the voice that was calling out to me. I watched as some of the brush parted, and I slowly headed towards the noise, preparing myself for what I might see. The man that the voice belonged to smiled at me. I ran to him, gave him a hug, and began crying. It was my Grandpa. I knew that this door would disappear. I would never be able to walk through this secret door again. I was okay with that. At least I got to see my Grandpa one last time. Emily Swain
The secret door opened into the world she had always wanted. Instead of a dark empty room, the door led to a balcony overlooking a city as far as the eye could see. To her left, a raging sea pounded on the shore at high tide. To her right, mountains touched the stars. The people below her moved just like back home, except for the fact they were all stuck behind screens. Not one person looked up from the holographs in front of them to look at their surroundings. Her new home was all hers. She no longer had a family or friends. Even though this was all she could ever want, she felt homesick. She missed the feeling of belonging her old world provided. But how could she go back? Emma Larkin
The secret door opened into a world not like our own. The sky was a vibrant blue. Too vibrant. The grass a glowing chartreuse, welcoming you to lay down in it. But the voice in the back of your head told you not to. The birds sang a beautiful song, but the way it echoed left a pit in your stomach. This world was perfect. Too perfect. You wanted to walk back, step out of this world, but it seemed to pull you in, trap you. Perfection is not something to trust. It should be feared more than anything. So run. Kassidy Kessler
The secret door opened into the big hockey arena, but only this time it was different. There were no cheering fans, players on the ice; it was just an abandoned empty arena. It once held some of the greatest players ever. Now that arena is just an empty shell with melted ice in the middle and an old worn and disgusting Connor McDavid jersey that now a family of rats lived in. There were so many rats it felt like the 1996 Stanley Cup playoffs when the Florida Panthers fans threw all the fake rats on the ice. The entire arena now was just an empty shell of a once great city, but that tragedy of the underground fire hitting the uranium killed off the entire city with radiation. Almost like the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear meltdown… Kira Findley
The secret door opened into a house, or rather, outside a house. One might suggest that it opened into the outside, but that doesn’t have a very nice ring to it. Outside was cool; a chilled breeze swept over the highland hills, the tall grass flowing in the few spots it had managed to take root in. The craggy slope upon which the house rested was full of small springs that emptied themselves into a creek that ran down a shallow canyon that had been carved into the rocks over hundreds and thousands of seasons. A light misty rain began to fall as the autumn clouds emptied themselves upon the slopes. Near the base of the mountain sat a group of fields, sheep roaming the hilly grasses to feed on what bits of clover they could find, and likely quite a few that you wouldn’t expect them to. The sheep were content with their sedentary lives, and the small child who had opened the aforesaid door was happy with his more energetic one as well. Lloyd Gholson
The secret door opened into one of the nurseries. Piles of white larva as long as my arm squirm on sofa cushions, and I watch as workers rushed back and forth, cramming various insectile delicacies into their mouths. I dodge around them and exit into one of the eastern tunnels. The queen should be around here somewhere, signing termite treaties or meeting with a caterpillar delegation. Her chambers are so spacious that it’s hard to find her. I still find it hard to fathom that long ago, human rulers lived in the palace. Mary Ellen Raymo
The secret door opened into an eerie, dimly lit clearing. I stepped from my bedroom onto the soft grass. Propping the door open, I cautiously moved forward. Trees loomed above me, wind rustling the deep green leaves. Where was I? I turned in a complete circle and something moved out of the corner of my eye. What was that? I went to return to my room, but the door was gone. In its place stood a figure, cloaked in deep blue. It glided toward me and extended a porcelain hand. “Come with me. You must!” Her melodic voice was urgent. “You need to help us…” As if in a trance, I folded my hand into hers. Megan Koch
The secret door opened up into the past. It showed everything that led up to this moment. All the pain, happiness, and love that has made people into who they are. The frame was decorated with names of people who changed lives. The doorknob was blue and green, like the earth. Stepping through was dangerous but a risk that was necessary to move on. Once inside, the secret door closed, and a new one appeared. It was blank. All white, a simple knob, no blemishes or marks to had shown anyone was there. Opening it led to a room with nothing. However, stepping through it made things appear, and the hand-print was embedded into the knob. This new door was the future. New and exciting, ready to be decorated with the experience the past had brought. Monica Turntine
The secret door opened into the library. Now, this library isn’t your normal kind of library, with a cranky librarian and college students procrastinating on their papers. This is a different kind of library, a quite large but cozy little section of the world. It is where I go to escape from reality, from school papers and tests. In this library I can read, write, and create as long as I want to, and when I am tired there is a comfy little sofa where I can fall asleep to the sound of a fire in the fireplace. No one else can go through this secret door; to them it is simply a normal room. But I know. I know of the secret door that leads to the special library that exists only in my mind. Olivia Gibbons
The secret door opened into the world left behind, and with it all my stolen memories come back to me. I gasp as the euphoric feeling washes over me. I see my father lift me as a child in his arms, I see my friend and I holding our diplomas from high school graduation, and my older brother coming home from college to visit. I feel joyous tears fall from my eyes because I now know who I am, who I’ve always been, and I won’t lose that again. Rachel Swain