So, this pretty much wins for "lamest Death's Door prompt ever", but I had to write it in a hurry to get this posted before midnight. You realize that, if I do, that means I have posted every day this week! Anyway, my plan is to post Monday, but you'll forgive me if I don't -- after all, it is the first day of NaNoWriMo! 50,000 words, here I come!

Anyway, this marks the last day of the Death's Door prompts... for now. I have 19 more doors to write about, and, besides, I think I want to continue some of them. However, like I say, for now I'm giving the Death prompts a rest (which will make my mother feel better).

But, if I'm going to get this posted before Sunday, I'd better stop chatting. Here it is:


Trembling and terrified, Susan walked towards the iron door. A bright light shone from behind it, lighting the oddly textured walls. Susan's bear feet were chilled by the granite that she stepped on, but, then she had been cold ever since ... it had happened.
Though uncertain about a lot of things that were going on, Susan knew one thing: she had to get through that door. However, it looked so very far away, and she was frightened. A part of her knew what had happened, but another, stronger, part of her was unwilling to accept it.
So Susan walked very slowly in the direction of the intimidating, other-worldy door. Now and again, she would stop in her tracks and simply gaze at it, as though willing it to go away, to change to something normal, like the door to her bedroom.
"I'm too young," she whispered, "I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I here?"
She could feel the tears threatening to fall. She wasn't sure she could make it. But she kept moving forward, step after step, holding on to what little courage was left inside her.
At last, she reached the door ... but she couldn't make herself open, or even touch, it. Frozen, rooted to the spot, she just stared.
Suddenly, her strength just failed her, and she collapsed onto the stone ground.
There was a creaking sound, like the opening of a door. Then strong arms lifted her.
"It's all right," said a man's voice, calming and soothing, "You're going to be fine."
Susan felt herself relax. She knew she could trust that voice. Everything was going to be fine.