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Fantasy Fiction Science Fiction

"Jackie, what do you think is happening to you?" Star Phoenix, expert child psychologist, gazed patiently at the squirming boy sitting in front of her.

Star's office was all grey. A bleak, cold grey, which muffled the sunshine and made another monochromatic world which seemed to be drowning in silence. The cat clock's eyes ticked back and forth.

Jackie Sloan was seeing portals everywhere since his parents went off the grid. He believed that one day, these doors would lead him to them. When asked why he couldn't open them yet, he always said the same thing.

"I'm not a grown up yet."

"Jackie, I have your diagnosis. Your PTSD is possibly influencing your-"

"SHUT UP!" screamed the little boy, leaping upright. His dark eyes blazed with a fire the woman had never seen before. They seemed to be the only color present in the room, those deep, onyx, animated orbs which saw beyond what existed.

Star was ready to call security. She had dealt with several troubled, sullen youths before. But this child of ten frightened her more than any criminal.

"Miss. I have nothing against what you say. But those portals exist. I've felt them before, they are like hardwood doors. You have to believe me, Miss, you're the only person who would, please...."

He curled up into the seat, sobs heaving through his small body. Star felt a twinge of sympathy. "Jackie, dear, we'll find them. Really. But meanwhile-"

Jackie jumped out of his chair and gripped her forearms. "Miss, my parents went into a portal. They always told me they'd follow the path of belief, so that they could go in! And they DID. But something's wrong, because Mom and Dad said they would be back for dinner, but they aren't yet! Miss, you have to take me to them!" His words spiraled out of his mouth like bullets, and he frantically shook her.

Star gently pushed him back. "Dear, go home and think about it. We'll get you through this, I promise. Just stop believing in the portals."

Jackie's voice was as sharp and harsh as broken glass. "You're a fake. You say that you help people start new lives. Yet you don't believe in what could be a new pathway of doors. Quit your job, Miss. The only thing you're helping create is another generation of kids like me who are faithless like you and all the other grown ups."

Star grabbed her clipboards and papers, sweeping efficiently out.

The tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she hurried down the busy sidewalk. Her breath steamed in the winter air.

"You're a fake." Her patient's brutally honest words bit through her jumbled mind, making her clutch her fiery red curls and grunt in frustration.

"Star, you don't believe in ghosts, do you? They're just silly stories. Just like those damn portals." snapped Henry Phoenix at dinner one day. The tiny redhead child blinked her huge blue eyes.

"But Daddy, they exist! I've seen 'em!" She said proudly, puffing her chest out.

His face soured. "Stop acting like a freak. We're not like THEM." he growled.

"Who are they, Daddy?" she asked curiously.

"The people who still "believe"." he scoffed, making air quotes with his fingers to emphasize his point.

"But....it's not just a fairy tale....and I don't want to stop believing..." mumbled the girl, fidgeting with the hem of her old nightie.

He struck her sharply around the neck, making her yelp.

"They. Are. Not. Real." he snarled in rabid anger. She rubbed the bruise behind her head, tears trickling down the side of her nose, framing her rosy face in a crystal sheet of shimmering diamonds.

She looked around the empty kitchen, her mother buried under the earth, her father a stern surgeon who beat her up every time she dared to talk about the sweeter fantasies of life.

The broken remains of "used to be's" and bittersweet goodbyes.

Star drew in a heavy breath, leaning her nose against the cold glass on her apartment windows. She took a sip of the champagne, bubbles tickling her nose.

"What the hell you doin', Star?" she grumbled. "You're lyin' to yourself. You're lyin' to a kid with dreams. You're lyin' to the whole damn world. You're a terrible person, Star."

At the end of her speech, sobs were wracking her.

"Pull yourself together, old girl. There's still time to believe. It's never too late, Star."

She grabbed her suitcase, and started throwing her clothes and things inside. She dumped her phone into the trash can, she didn't need that at all. Her eyes lingered on her books, but she shook her head. They didn't matter.

She hugged her torn bunny blanket close to her chest. She couldn't leave something that important behind.

As the sun rose over the horizon, so did the new person in Star Evangeline Phoenix.

"Hello, Miss." Jackie's hesitant, slightly apologetic voice echoed in the office like church bells after the prayers were over, and the rose petals were flying like swirling love letters from lost suitors.

"Jackie. This is urgent. Never stop believing in the portals, okay? They most definitely exist. And you'll be ready soon. Speaking of which, I won't be your psychologist from today."

"Why?" shock painted his features.

"I've got places to go, people to meet. See you in a different timeline soon, Jackie." She winked at him and sashayed out.

Clip-clopping down the stairs, she flung her papers and ID at the snobby receptionist.

"Wh- You can't leave!" she shrieked, her gigantic bosom quivering.

"Oh yes I can. Oh, and Mrs Aster? That orange lipstick makes you look like a giant tuna."

Before she could start screaming again, Star kicked the glass doors open and stepped out into the crisp winter air.

There it was. The portal, her doorway. Shining about two feet away from her.

She smiled as it melted away at her touch.

"Dad, watch me now."

A new world.

New people.

New problems.

Was she scared? Of course.

Would she leave? Not for the world.

THE END

January 05, 2021 18:51

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3 comments

Jackie Small
20:51 Jan 14, 2021

Thought provoking. Lovely ideas! I must admit to being a little confused at times though. Not 100% sure what was going on. Some great descriptions - orange lipstick and giant tuna being one! Vivid! Possibly a little bit overwritten at times - a little too descriptive and also confusing - I found myself trying to imagine words spiralling like bullets from his mouth and it was distracting. Star was a great character - the real troubled soul in the piece!

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Samira Davis
10:15 Jan 15, 2021

Thank you so much for this comment! It really made my day :) I'll try to shorten the description next time.

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Samira Davis
10:16 Jan 15, 2021

Thank you so much! :)

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