The Door That Appeared

Lexile: 1170 | Grade: 10

Passage

It had not been there yesterday.

Lena stood in the hallway of her school, staring at the narrow wooden door between the lockers. It had no handle, no sign. Just a faint shimmer around the edges, like breath on glass.

She wasn’t the kind of person who imagined things. But the door was real—at least as real as the fear curling in her stomach. She glanced behind her. The hallway was empty. Class had ended. No footsteps. No explanations.

Some part of her—quiet, insistent—told her the door was meant for her. Not because she was special, but because she was searching. Not for escape, exactly. For something else. For the strength to move through things instead of around them.

She pressed her palm to the wood. It was warm. With a soft click, the door opened inward.

On the other side was not a hallway or a room, but a forest at dusk. The trees were tall and glowing faintly, as if lit from within. The sky above them shimmered with constellations she didn’t recognize. And at the base of the trees—paths. Dozens of them. Winding in different directions, each lined with different stones: rough, smooth, glowing, cracked.

A quiet voice—not from outside, but inside her—asked a question without words: *Which one will you walk?*

She took a step forward. Not because she knew the answer. But because she wanted to find out who she’d become if she dared to walk without one.

Behind her, the door disappeared.