Ever since I can remember the basement door was prohibited for me to open; not even my parents went down there. Honestly, I don’t even know if the past tenants touched it, it doesn’t look like it has been opened in years. But tonight, on my 18th birthday, will be the night it is finally opened. My curiosity has driven me mad over this! It is high time to find out what is truly down there. My alarm clock reads 12:00 AM, I tiptoe down the stairs straining to not make a peep. When I reach the bottom step, I look at the basement door down the looming corridor we call the hallway. Butterflies swirl in my stomach, I need to know what is down there. I cautiously approach the door, reach out and grab the doorknob, my sweaty palms allow the dust particles to stick to my hand. Ever so slowly I turn the knob and pry open the door.
The door hinges must not have been oiled in decades because the eeriest creek arises from my slow and subtle attempt to open the door. I peer inside only to be blinded by bright white light; maybe this is why dad’s always complaining about the electricity bill. I pull the door open wide enough to wriggle my body through, when I make it to the other side, I bear my surroundings. Soundproof padding lines the surrounding walls of the stairwell and even the back of the door, what is going on? As I creep down the stairs, I hear…voices? As I reach the last few steps before yet another door, I slink down so I am not easily detected. Pressing my ear to the door I hear mumbles, but I can’t make any words out; there must be more padding inside the room. I have to open this door I am too far in now to turn back. Yet again my hand clasps the cool metal of an unfamiliar doorknob.
I open the door, and I am staring at about a dozen men and women wearing lab coats. They look at me like I am not supposed to be there, it is my own house for god’s sake! It is a staring contest with no end.
until a man with brown hair and pale skin shouts “SHIT, the experiment is ruined again! Every god damn year.” he drops to the ground and covers his face with his hands. Experiment? I want to throw up. I look behind him only to see dozens of computers with every room in the house on them; one has a frantic heartbeat on it, MY HEARTBEAT. I am about ready to faint when an older man also wearing a lab coat approaches me.
“Happy birthday” he whispers in my ear before violently injecting me with a needle into my neck.
I wake up with a smile, “happy birthday dear” my mother says to me. I grin at her and quietly think to myself, next year will be the year I open that god damn door.