Doors 2022

Short and to the point, thatʻs what this is so that you donʻt lose focus or get distracted.

At the U.H. dorms, long before it was legal, a hot plate was brought into the room so that the roommates could make late-night omelets and other concoctions. Unfortunately, the roommates were careless about not carefully watching items near the hot plate. All it took was an errant wind to knock off a loose napkin from a shelf, where it settled on the hotplate, and a fire broke out. The fiery tempest spread quickly, and the two young girls, in a panic, actually locked the only door rather than open it. Their last few moments of life were spent frantically pounding on the door, pushing themselves up against it until the smoke overtook them, and they died. Strange and macabre was that the door to the dorm room survived unscathed except that the shadowy impression of the two girls was ingrained in it. Nothing some varnish and a good paint job could take away. The door in question made the rounds on campus, from an office door for teaching staff to the provost and finally to a dorm room on the other side of campus. Each time the occupants of said spaces would complain about the horrific aroma of burning flesh and the slow materialization of two human figures on the inner part of the door. The item was finally discarded for trash and summarily deposited in a campus trash bin. Efforts to cut it into pieces by the maintenance staff proved unsuccessful after the door would not come out of the trash bin when the garbage trucks came to collect it.

The men claimed that the door screamed out in horrible pain whenever the spinning blades of the chain saw touched the door. Dousing it with liter fluid and trying to set it aflame only yielded the acrid, greasy smell of body oils. It made everyone sick enough to gag and throw up. The maintenance crew cast the haunted portal into the raging waters of Kānewai after a fortuitous storm appeared from the night before. This author's last news of the door was that it ended up at a homeless encampment at Kakaʻako, where a strange fire broke out. One that took out the adjacent tents next to it on either side. Several homeless perished in the resulting fire. Some heartless members of our local community commented that the fire was meant to cull the growing numbers of homeless who were a blight on our society. Be that as it may, the question becomes, where is the haunted door now? My reply is that we should keep a tab of unusual fires which boil up for no good reason, especially in places where new doors are recently installed.