The Door

A Story by Rachel

Lindsay moves to Japan after accepting a new job. But something isn't right when she finds a mysterious sealed door in her apartment, and worse, in her very own room. Copyright. All belongs to me.

The Door

The day I moved to my new apartment in Tokyo, I saw that there was a door in my room that did not open. I was a little creeped out, as I was living alone at the time. “Lindsay, you’re twenty-three, you shouldn’t be scared of a door,” my friend Shelly, who had also gotten a job here in Japan, said when we met for lunch later that day after I had unpacked. The thing is, I felt like I had to be scared. The apartment is comfortable and nice, but the door is weird. I mean just looking at it gives me an uneasy feeling. It’s a normal, slightly dingy door with chipped white paint that oozes over the opening, sealing it shut. I want to see what’s inside, but I am too afraid. For now, I pushed a couch in front of it.

At the small café with Shelly, my friend tried to reassure me that what’s behind the door is harmless. “It’s probably just an old storage room filled with dust,” she said. I decided that the only way to get over my irrational feelings of fear was to open the door. I recruited Shelly to come with me. I stuck the key in my apartment door and pushed the door open. This was going to be my first night staying here. I went into my room and pushed the couch aside. I grabbed a knife and cut through the thick layer of paint sealing the door shut. A noise startled us. Thump. It was coming from behind the door. I jumped back and looked at Shelly, who seemed not to notice. Something was behind this door. Thump. Smash.

I pushed the couch back quickly in front of the door. I decided to talk to my landlady, Mrs. Yu, a kind middle aged lady who spoke limited English. I got Shelly, who spoke the native language, to translate. We knocked on her door and she invited us in. “I’m Lindsay Carmichael, I just moved here for a job,” I said, and Shelly translated. “I’m a little scared. There’s a door in my room that I sealed shut, and when I tried to open it, I heard a thumping noise. It is probably just an animal, but I was wondering if you knew anything about it?”

The woman was silent for a long while. She spoke in Japanese, and as she spoke, Shelly’s looked at me, concerned. “What? What is she saying?” I asked. “Sit down,” Shelly said to me once the woman was silent. Mrs. Yu’s face looked pinched. “Lindsay, no one has ever lived in that apartment and there’s no way for animals to get into the door. You must be hearing things,” Shelly said. “What?” I asked. “Have you been seeing a doctor lately? Or even a shrink? I have a good one for you here.” “I don’t need a shrink!” I said shrilly. “Shel, you heard those noises too, right?” Shelly took my hands. “Lindsay, you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, with your new job and the move here,” she said. “You didn’t hear anything before? A thump?” I asked. “I’m not imagining this Shel.” I stalked out of the room and heard Shelly say something to Mrs. Yu in Japanese.

I went back to my apartment and slammed the door. I had to figure this out on my own, but without someone else in the apartment, I felt scared and isolated. I ran to my door and slammed it closed, then sat on the couch in my living room. What to do? I grabbed my laptop and sat down again. Opening Google, I typed in the words JAPAN, DOOR, and LEGEND. I got only two hits, one an anime website another that read URBAN LEGENDS OF JAPAN- THE GIRL BEHIND THE DOOR AND OTHER STORIES. I clicked on it, and a black and red creepy web page popped up. URBAN LEGENDS AND FOLKLORE it read, along with a photo of a creepy woman with pupil less black eyes. There was a list underneath it, and I clicked on THE GIRL BEHIND THE DOOR (Doa no ushiro no on'nanoko) hoping it could help me.

THE GIRL BEHIND THE DOOR IS A JAPANESE URBAN LEGEND ABOUT A SCHOOL GIRL NAMED SAYAKA. HER FAMILY MOVED TO AN APARTMENT BUILDING YEARS AGO. WHEN SHE WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD, SHE HEARD HER PARENTS FIGHTING IN THE OTHER ROOM. UPSET, SHE HID IN HER BEDROOM, BUT SHE COULD STILL HEAR HER PARENT FIGHTING VIOLENTLY. SHE DECIDED TO HIDE IN HER BEDROOM CLOSET INSTEAD, A LARGE, WALK IN CLOSET. SHE SAT THERE FOR HOURS, UNTIL FINALLY, THE FIGHTING STOPPED. SAYAKA SIGHED IN RELIEF, AND GOT UP TO OPEN THE CLOSET DOOR. SHE PUSHED AT IT, BUT IT WOULDN’T OPEN. SHE BANGED ON THE DOOR SO HER PARENTS COULD OPEN IT, BUT LITTLE DID SHE KNOW THAT HER PARENTS HAD ALREADY LEFT THE HOUSE, EACH IN A HUFF, FORGETTING ABOUT SAYAKA. THE GIRL WAS STUCK. SHE TRIED TO DIAL THE POLICE ON HER CELLULAR PHONE, BUT SHE HAD NO SERVICE. SHE WAITED IN THAT CLOSET FOR HOURS UPON HOURS, HOPING HER PARENTS WOULD COME HOME SOON. THEY NEVER DID, AND SAYAKA WAS FOUND, A YEAR LATER, HER FACE STILL FROZEN MID YELL, HER CELL PHONE STILL TO HER EAR, DEAD IN HER CLOSET. TO THIS DAY, WE BELIEVE THAT SAYAKA STILL LIVES IN THE CLOSET, HAUNTING THOSE WHO COME NEAR AND TRY TO OPEN IT. IF YOU GO TO THE APARTMENT BUILDING, LOCATED ON LOTUS ROAD AND VENTURE INTO APARTMENT 5A, YOU COULD SEE SAYAKA’S OLD ROOM, AND HEAR HER BANGING ON THE DOOR AND WAILING FOR SOMEONE TO LET HER OUT. HOWEVER, TAKE NOTE, YOU ONLY HEAR IT IF SHE WANTS YOU TO. ONCE SHE REALIZED YOU HEAR HER, SHE WILL COME AFTER YOU.

I sat in shocked horror. Thump. Thump. Bang. I jumped. A ghost girl was haunting my apartment. I lived in apartment 5a on Lotus Road. “Shelly!” I called, not moving an inch, desperately hoping she was in the hall and could hear me. THUMP. THUMP. Then came a bloodcurdling sound that could only be described as a wail. Just like the story said. I knew she was coming closer. Bang. The door to my room burst open, and I saw that the door to the closet was broken down, hanging off its hinges. Then I saw the girl. She was pale, with gaping black eyes and long black hair. She crawled towards me slowly, and I backed toward the front door as slowly as possible. She came toward me, wailing so loud I had to clamp my hands over my ears. Then, just as she was about to grab me, the front door swung open and Mrs. Yu faced the thing with a shotgun. “LET THIS GIRL GO!” she yelled. “I’m sorry Sayaka. I’m sorry your father and I left you alone, but now it’s time for you to rest.” She shot at the girl, who froze, and dissolved into a cloud of dust.

“You lied to me.” I said, “You told me no one had lived in this apartment, when this whole time you were the mother of the girl who haunted it.” Mrs. Yu nodded. “I am sorry. I deceived you. I just did not think she would try to contact you. I know how I must look, I regret leaving the apartment every day and not realizing my daughter was trapped in the closet. It was all a horrible accident.” I put my arm around her. “I know, but it’s all over now,” I said. Shelly burst in and I told her the whole story. “You speak English,” she said to Mrs. Yu, who nodded. “Come on,” I said, let’s go call the police.” Mrs. Yu shook her head. “No, they will not believe you. We have no evidence.” She was right.

I moved out, back to New York, and am now living in a ghost girl free apartment with Shelly as my roommate. We both have jobs we love. There are no odd doors in my room, and everything is open and airy. Mrs. Yu moved on. She still mourns Sakaya’s loss every day, but she is slowly moving on with her life. She sends us emails once in a while. Shelly and I had just plopped down in front of the TV when someone knocked on the door loudly. “Must be the pizza,” Shelly said. I got up and pulled the door open. No one was there, but we swear we both heard a faint wail…