The sound of the doorbell startled me. It was louder than it normally is, and my stomach tightened like a rusty screw being forced into place.

What was that? The air thickened and a fog came out when I exhaled. I walked to the thermostat. It read 27 degrees Fahrenheit. That can’t be right. It’s in the middle of summer! I said sharply. The doorbell rang again, louder this time. I froze where I stood. My insides felt like they were being pulled out from my stomach. I didn’t know if I should open the door or not. I walked slowly to the door, my legs feeling unsteady like when you first get off of a roller coaster, and looked out the peephole. There was nothing there. I turned around quickly, leaning on the door, my heart racing. The doorbell rang a third time, this time forcing me to cover my ears. I screamed, “Who is there?”

“Open the door,” a quiet voice said, barely recognizable.

“Who are you?” my voice cracked, “What do you want?”

“Open the door,” the voice a little louder. My body shook as I turned around and reached for the latch. I unlatched the door and reached for the handle, pausing while every bone in my body trembled. I felt like I might throw up, but I pushed through it. This is probably a bad decision. I often make choices that I regret, but something tugged on my soul to open the door.

I cracked it open and looked out as I pulled the door open all the way. What sat on my porch was a small box. My eyes circled my yard, nobody in sight. I stepped out onto my porch and picked up the box. It read:

This box holds the key to your healing, but be warned, there is no going back. The choice is yours.

The air in my lungs tightened like a noose around my neck. I could barely hold onto the box, my hands were shaking so badly. I surveyed the yard once again and turned around and walked back inside. I locked the door just to be safe and sat down on my couch. I placed the box on the coffee table, staring at it for what felt like eternity. What should I do? The box said it was the key to my healing.  I had been struggling for years, in and out of therapy, but never getting any better. The tension escalated in my chest, feeling drawn to open the box and terrified of what was inside at the same time. I reached for it, hands trembling.

I took a deep breath and opened the box.