A Way Out

She sat alone on her bed, the empty house quiet, listening.

Her headphones continued to pump the music to her ears, hoping to infuse some vitality in her.

She stared at the book, her blank eyes taking none of the words in.

The hours passed, and she barely moved. The walls watched sadly. It had been 7 weeks since she had left the room for any business other than to use the restroom or to grab a bag of chips, cookies, anything that was available. She sat there daily, pretending to read a book, trying to write in her journal, but not inking a single word. Her phone beeped at times, adding unread messages to the pile.

Her bed snuggled her close, supportive, but losing faith that she'd be all right soon.

The house contemplated the scene within the room, and sighed silently, realising the rest were right. Something needed to be done. It focused, gathering its energy and drawing them to a spot on the wall next to the girl.

A minute went by, then the spot on the wall begin to glow. It slowly opened up into a hole, which gradually widened into a rectangular shape. Wood started to form around the borders, and soon, a fully formed window had appeared.

The girl looked up, her attention caught by the shaft of light that materialised, light softly on the book.

She gazed at the window, bewildered, then slowly, a smile appeared on her face, as amazement fought through the heavy sludge about her heart and lit a spark within. In wonder, she reached out a hand, and gently placed her fingers on the frame of the window. A chuckle bubbled up and escaped her lips, surprising herself. The house watched, a tender joy blossoming within its spirit.

She peered through the window, and saw beautiful emerald trees beyond. Golden light peeked through the branches and foliage of the tall redwood trees.

Her mouth fell open in shock and awe, her body tingling, unaccustomed the sudden influx of emotions and vigour within.

They lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood. There were trees around, but no forest. What she should have seen through the window, should have been a row of blue and white houses, little unimaginative boxes built from the same template.

But there were no houses to be seen through the window. Just pure, beautiful golds, greens and browns, lovingly woven together by nature.

She reached to open the window, and as she pushed the glass pane open, a gust of crisp, fresh wind swept into the room. She breathed in the fragrance of the forest, earthy, sweet with a tinge of spice.

She leant out of the window, and started to lift her leg through it. suddenly, a clear knowing settled upon her. Once she left through this window, she would not be able to get back home again, not ever.

She hesitated, her leg still lifted on the pane. She wasn't ready to leave home, not just yet. Her family had yet to be home from their visit with her grandmother. Her friends deserved goodbyes. She had a few tasks to complete, a few things to do.

She tucked her self back into the room, and closed the window. Looking about the house, she found a spare blanket, some stick on hooks, a roll of woollen thread, and configured them so that the blanket now draped over the window, concealing it from sight.

Over the next few weeks, she spent dinners with her family, participating in the chatter, even laughing often.

She could see the relief on their faces, as they began to take heart and believe that she was finally getting better.

She went out with her friends, who were surprised and delighted by her reappearance in their lives. They updated her about the events over the past months, and she glossed over her past months, leaving out the fact that she had slowly wound down the activity in her life to the point of staring listlessly at nothing in her room. She lied that she had been working on writing a book, and had got too caught up with it. They were happy to have her back, and she felt at home in the warmth of their loyalty and love.

She wrote letters to each of the important people in her life, to let them know where she was going, to help them know that there was no need to worry. 

She started looking through all of her old photos, the meticulously framed and filtered memories of her life. She smiled often, teared at times, moved by nostalgia as she revisited the different moments in time of her life in this world. 

She had her favourite meals, ordered her favourite drinks. She explored her favourite spots in the city, and planned for a trip to her favourite city in the world. 

It all swished by, and soon, she realised it had been months since her discovery of the window. She still looked through it often, onto the magical world beyond, but lately, she had been spending less time doing so, and sometimes, days would go by without her peeking out at the magical landscape beyond. She had been busy with the goings on in her life.

One night, her mother sat down with her in bed, and hugged her tightly. 

Her mother wanted her to know how deeply relieved and intensely grateful she felt, for her daughter coming back to life, for her being okay again, happy again. She wept, hugging her mother back, and they cried for a long time, tears of deep emotions lifting the unspoken weight from them.

On the day she planned to leave through the window, she changed her mind. She had more to do, more to explore in this world. She hadn't been to the new garden that had opened in the city, a place touted to host an incredible range of breathtaking flowers from around the world. She owed her family and friends more time, more closure. She draped the blanket back over the window, and set aside a date 6 months later, for her departure.

Many years later, she moved back to the house. Everywhere, dust had settled. Her sister had passed away a year ago, and the house had remained empty since. She looked around, taking in the folorn, but welcoming aura of the house. She had moved out from the house of her childhood when she went to university, and after that, she had lived in another city. She visited often, but after her parents had passed, her visits grew few and far between. She loved the house, she loved the window, but with her busy career and responsibilities of her own family, she could seldom make the time for the long trip back. 

She walked through the house, and into her old bedroom. A sense of sweet sadness arose within her. She had so many fond memories in this bedroom. She had felt protected, cared for in this house, even throughout her darkest times. She smiled when she saw the faded old blanket draped over the window. She wondered if her sister had ever found her secret window. Her sister had taken over the house after their parents died, and had spent her life there, alone, but happy and fulfilled with her career, her life's work. 

She lifted the blanket, and stared through at the beautiful forest beyond. She thought she could make out some faint foot prints on the ground right outside the window, but she couldn't be sure. She gazed outside for a long time, the golden light bringing a sparkle to the wisps of grey hair framing her face. She felt content, steeped in the peace she felt within. 

Her phone pinged, likely a message from her daughter. She lowered the blanket back over the window.