Ripples in the Pond
Jul. 31st, 2006 04:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shosenRight before her hand touched the grinning stone, she froze, remembering why it had been that she hadn’t selected this door the first time. “Has what’s beyond it changed?” she asked.
“What do you mean, childe?” the voice replied, in a tone that hinted the answer was already known.
“Beyond this door lay eternal peace,” she said, “but not only for myself. Has that changed?”
“Of course not, childe. Our lives will always touch others, even if we attempt to isolate ourselves. The choice you make will do the same.”
The woman stared at the door, looked down at her cursed and twisted form, and then stood up. “The price is still too high,” she said, and stepped back away from the door.
“Very well,” the voice said, and as the woman watched, the door faded, but not completely. The grinning skull watched her through the stone, like a reflection in dark water.
“Why… I don’t understand.”
“This door is a possibility, childe. Some come and go, but some remain. This one is always with you.”
“I don’t want it!”
The voice laughed, and the sounds swirled around her like the wind, but then said no more. The woman stood in the quiet darkness for a moment, and then ran quickly back to her home, mentioning nothing about the door to her friends and family.
She continued to stand with them, and do her best to help. She tried to ignore the curse and find what happiness she could around the suffering, and to help as much as she was able, accepting when it couldn’t ever be enough.
From that day on, however, the possibility and the choice were never truly gone. In moments of sadness and despair she would turn a corner and find the stone door, solid and real and waiting. In moments where she thought things were well, though, she would still see it: the grinning skull watching her, like a reflection in dark water.
“What do you mean, childe?” the voice replied, in a tone that hinted the answer was already known.
“Beyond this door lay eternal peace,” she said, “but not only for myself. Has that changed?”
“Of course not, childe. Our lives will always touch others, even if we attempt to isolate ourselves. The choice you make will do the same.”
The woman stared at the door, looked down at her cursed and twisted form, and then stood up. “The price is still too high,” she said, and stepped back away from the door.
“Very well,” the voice said, and as the woman watched, the door faded, but not completely. The grinning skull watched her through the stone, like a reflection in dark water.
“Why… I don’t understand.”
“This door is a possibility, childe. Some come and go, but some remain. This one is always with you.”
“I don’t want it!”
The voice laughed, and the sounds swirled around her like the wind, but then said no more. The woman stood in the quiet darkness for a moment, and then ran quickly back to her home, mentioning nothing about the door to her friends and family.
She continued to stand with them, and do her best to help. She tried to ignore the curse and find what happiness she could around the suffering, and to help as much as she was able, accepting when it couldn’t ever be enough.
From that day on, however, the possibility and the choice were never truly gone. In moments of sadness and despair she would turn a corner and find the stone door, solid and real and waiting. In moments where she thought things were well, though, she would still see it: the grinning skull watching her, like a reflection in dark water.