I stood in front of the door for a long time, unable to move.
The corridor behind the door was dark, silent, and endless. The air coming from inside was cold, like the air of an old abandoned place.
"This is impossible," I whispered.
But my feet moved anyway.
I stepped inside.
The moment I entered, the door behind me closed slowly with a heavy sound.
I turned quickly and tried to open it again, but it wouldn't move.
I was trapped.
The corridor looked exactly like in my dreams. Doors on both sides, each door with a symbol.
Not numbers.
Symbols.
I walked slowly past the first doors. Circle. Triangle. Line. Square. Each symbol matched a key I had.
"This is real…" I said quietly.
When I reached the door with the triangle symbol, I took key number 2 and tried it.
Click.
The door opened.
Inside the room, there was a chair, a table, and a photograph on the wall.
I walked closer.
The photograph showed a man and a woman.
The man was Marcus.
The woman… was me.
But I had never taken that photo.
I looked closer and felt my blood freeze.
I was older in the photo.
And I was wearing a wedding ring.
On the back of the photo, there were words written in black ink:
"Second life. You loved him, but you didn't remember me."
My hands started shaking.
Second life?
I left the room quickly and closed the door. My breathing was heavy. My head hurt.
"This is not possible… this is not possible…"
But deep inside, I knew one thing.
Every door was a life.
Every husband was a life.
Every key was a memory.
And I had lived more lives than I could remember...