Room of Doors

Something quick I whipped up whilst avoiding homework.

  I find myself staning in a room full of doors. Each door is locked, chained and bolted. The door I came from has disappeared, and in its wake is a mirror. The mirror reflects who I am now. The doors each represent who I could be. But why are they locked? Am I not ready for change? I'm more than ready to accept it, this room full of doors is tearing me apart, and I don't want to be in here anymore. But the longer I stay, it seems the tigheter the doors close. Sometimes I wish I was a lockpick, so that maybe I'd be able to open at least one, and peek inside. I drop to my knees in this room full of doors, wondering if they will ever open.
 
 Then I realize that that would be too easy. If doors just opened for people, where would all the handsome men be to open them for you? But there aren't any handsome men in this room (damn). And then I realize that that would be too easy as well. So...I guess there's only one thing left that I can do.
 
  I lift myself up from my knees and start slamming, clawing, and throwing myself at each of the doors randomly, throwing every ounce of my being into each body check. Urgh. I collapse on the floor when my whole-hearted attempts to open these doors result in an epic fail. Why is this so maniacly difficult?
 
  "Can somebody help me here? DAMN IT I NEED HELP!" My scream arouses no response, as I'm in a room all alone. My mind is frantic with unprecidented longing for human contact, along with the uncertainty that I'll ever make it out of this room of doors. How long have I been in here, anyway? Where the hell did my watch go? Who robbed me and put me in this room of doors? When I find the b*****d, god only knows what I'm gonna do to the no good sonuva-
  
  A small creak and a glint of light halted my irrational thoughts. I spun my head around and realized that one of the doors was cracked open, the only thing keeping it from opening any further is a small chain on the other side. I walk over and try to peek in, but the light is too bright. Shieding my eyes from the blinding light, I feel around for the chain, thanking my creator for my skinny wrists. I fiddle with the chain until finally the door pushes all the way open. The light is burning my eyes now, and I'm not sure if this is the right door, but it's the first one that opened, and I'm frankly sick of this place.
 
  Before I proceeded through the door, I walk back to the wall in the room that contains the mirror and take a good long look, knowing that this is the last time that I'll see myself this way. I walk back to the door and take a cautious step forward, and I'm engulfed by light. I hear the door close behind me, then watch as it dissapears. I take another step forward, and find nothing under my foot, I try and look down, but the light coming from below me is even brighter. I feel around with my foot until I find something to actually place it on. When I move my other foot to join it, whatever I was standing on gave out, and I was falling. Faster and faster. I was frantically trying to grab something, reaching out all around me, but my hand could find nothing. The light is fading, and my surroundings, blurred by movement, materialized. Looking above I saw a white platform that was crumbled away, assuming that was what I was standing on. Looking below me, I saw only black. As I fell further, I felt heat growing more and more intense. I could only guess what was below me. I closed my eyes, and know now that choosing this door was a mistake. But this time, I won't be able to stand back up when I hit the ground...

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[DF]

I can really see this becoming a great poem. The 2nd,3rd, and 4th paragraphs can probably be pared down to one brief paragraph as the narrator's despair is already felt. I love the idea of falling into whiteness and the superficial platform that crumbles away. Great images. Be careful with your tenses as they shift back and forth between past and present, but in a 40 minute exercise, these typos can be expected. Great job.