500 Word Story Challenge
Behind the Door
The waiting room is nearly full but no one speaks; just nervous glances, the occasional clearing of a throat. Harsh overhead lights buzz a continuous drone over the long narrow room, with its bare gray walls and chairs on both sides facing each other. Every few minutes the door at the far end opens and a severe looking woman holding a clipboard calls another name. That’s the only time the women in the waiting room look up from their hands in their laps, as they watch the next applicant stand on unsure legs and walk the gauntlet. When the last girl was swallowed into the room and the door closed behind her, Allison stole a glance at the woman sitting to her left. She was beautiful, which only fed into Allison’s already cratering insecurity.
“I’m nervous,” she said and was instantly mortified that she’d actually spoken aloud.
The woman turned to Allison, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry?”
Allison blushed and looked down at her lap. “Nothing. Sorry.” She stared at her hands, watching her fingers snake around themselves into tense sweaty knots, until she felt the woman finally look away.
The overhead lights continue to buzz and someone tries to muzzle a cough with her hands, but in the silence it echoes. Allison looks up at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, then slowly looks over at the closed door. Even before her eyes can settle the door swings open and the severe looking woman with the clipboard comes out.
“Janet Murphy!”
The woman to Allison’s left stiffens and sucks in an inhale, but she doesn’t move.
“Janet Murphy!” the severe looking woman repeats louder.
Slowly Janet stands. She smooths the front of her smart wool skirt and finally exhales. Allison wants to tell her good luck but can’t find the words, so instead she watches Janet find her legs again and walk the narrow room. All the other women keep their heads down. When Janet reaches the door she starts to turn her head back to the waiting room but seems to think better of it. There is only the briefest hesitation before she enters the room. Allison can see a well dressed man inside, standing behind a desk and wiping his hands on a towel. Then the severe looking woman shuts the door.
Allison realizes she’s been holding her breath and she lets out a long shaky exhale. She will be called soon. She wipes her hands on her own smart wool skirt and wishes she’d told Janet good luck, because she hopes someone will say it to her when her name is called.
The overhead lights buzz like a swarm of flies. Another muffled cough from somewhere. What sounds like a short scream comes from behind the door and everyone in the waiting room looks up, then at one another, their eyes wide. They wait, but no more sounds come. Allison smooths her skirt and waits for the door to open once again.
