A little girl stood in a dark hallway, filled with doors. She couldn’t have been older than three, tripping as she walked. Her hair was in a bun, with frizzy black strands falling out, and her eyes were dark brown, examining the hallway.
As she touched the dark brown floor, she looked confused. She had no idea what was going on, and felt alone. There was no one in sight, not even a buzzing bee to comfort her.
Despite her confusion, the girl walked towards a door, and opened it. Suddenly, the girl changed. She grew taller, and her hair was now more chaotic than before.
A violin was thrust into her hand. She looked at it for a moment, wondering what had happened, but then continued to walk.
She stopped once in a while, leaning close to a door, trying to listen in. It made her feel like she wasn’t making a blind choice, despite hearing nothing from the other side.
Upon stepping inside a door, the violin disappeared, and her frizzy hair became sleek and long. She barely looked herself anymore. She was obviously older now, but her big brown eyes didn’t have the same innocents as before.
In her hand, was a cellphone that wouldn’t stop buzzing, but she couldn’t answer it, not matter how many times she pressed the buttons.
The girl stopped, and turned the door she had just left. She tried to open it, but it was shut. She cried out, wanting to change her choice, but she couldn’t. There was no turning back. She let out a huge sigh, and opened the first door she could find.
When the girl walked through, she wasn’t a girl anymore. She looked like a young woman, in her a deep blue dress that touched the floor, and she had a small tiara in her hair. She touched the object on her head, and then smiled slightly, pleased with herself.
She considered staying in that hallway, but a strong wind moved her down the hallway. Her hair flew out of its bun, and she grabbed onto a door handle, trying to stop moving. The wind was getting stronger, making her fly through the hallway.
The wind only stopped when she decided to open another door. She slowly touched the handle, but it didn’t budge. She hesitated for a moment, but then decided to stay.
She tried to open it a couple more times, but it didn’t move. She sat down, and waited for the door to open for her. She had no idea how long she sat there, but it felt like an eternity. One night, she awoke from her sleep, and looked at the door. Surely enough, the door opened with no trouble.
She was older now, with wrinkles on her face from smiling and she had marks of paint all over her place. A small paintbrush was placed in her hand, accompanied by a pallet of paint in the other hand.
The girl continued to walk the hallways, choosing her life. Choosing which path to take, one by one.
Just like the girl’s, our lives are filled with hallways. We cannot choose what is behind the doors, or what hallway we get thrown in at birth. Some doors are easy to open, but others take an eternity. We chose what life we want, but we don’t have endless possibilities. We try to make a life from the doors we have, and hope everything turns out fine.