The Intended Path by Mikaela Miyamoto

Mikaela is writing a bunch of short stories for 13 Days 13 Shorts this year! To check out more stuff from Mikaela, visit www.mikaelamiyamoto.com

note from Mikaela: I've started posting videos of me reading the stories on TikTok and you might start to catch some extra clues to the overarching storyline! You can check them out here: https://www.tiktok.com/@kaelamiyamoto?_t=ZP-90wjbC3IF8J&_r=1

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a tap tap tapping on my shoulder. It was my grandmother. She motioned for me to follow her out the bedroom door and down the hall to her sitting room. As we entered she peeked behind me before quietly closing the door and sitting me down right next to her. She sighed deeply before beginning, “I haven’t been truthful to you. And I’m sorry. But it was only to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I wasn’t. I realize that now.” I nodded silently, encouraging her to continue. “They’re not your mother and sister. They never were. I made them so you’d be more comfortable here.”

   “Then, who are you?” 

“I am your grandmother. That part is true. And we are at my house. In a way so to speak.”

    “What do you mean by that?” 

“This is my house. But it’s not yours. Not the one you belong to anyway. I thought you were trapped but I think you can escape. If you leave here be warned that you’ll never see me again.”

   “Why?”

“Well I suppose that isn’t entirely true either. You’ll see me again eventually. Just not for a long, long while.”

   “What if I don’t want to leave? I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too. But it’s only right that you go on your own path.”

She held me in the tightest hug she’s ever given me. Rubbing my back and kissing my forehead. We’d never been a very physically affectionate family but it was nice. 

“Now, you’ve been here long enough. It’s time for you to be on your way. Away from grandmother’s house. Back on your intended path.” She stood up and held her arm out to help me up, the same way I used to help her. She led me to the door, gave me one last hug, and then said, “I’ll see you again someday. Don’t forget me before then! Head through the blue door. Don’t look back and hurry on your way. Your mother’s waiting.”

Tears began to well in my eyes as I nodded and left the room and my grandmother, heading to the pale blue door. When I arrived at the door I was still filled with the same sense of dread and fear I always had when I was near it. But knowing it was my intended path I pushed past the feelings and through the door to see what was on the other side. 

I was met with a beautiful and open trail lined with rows upon rows of trees in different states of time. Some red and some green, others leafless or full of flowers. I began my journey. As I walked I reminisced on all of the things that had happened while I was at my grandmother’s house. As the memories played out in my head the images began to appear on the path, joining me on my journey. The candy corn clown was traipsing alongside me, down by my feet. It’s little bucket of candy corn clacking as it moved. I was reminded of the warmth and care I felt by my grandmother when she surprised my- well I guess it wasn’t my sister. When she surprised me with the clown. A face appeared on one of the trees ahead of me calling out, “I’m glad you chose to leave! Keep heading down your path!” I smiled and continued on my way. I passed a small pond and saw Kiyoshi swimming happily in the water. She waved and continued to hum a little tune. The wind whistled through me, causing me to shiver. I stuck my hands in my pockets surprised to find one of the Event cards from our family board game in there. It read “Return to Home”. I carefully stowed it in my pocket. I turned a corner on the path and was met with the Toad who’d tried to lead me to the door. It looked at me before turning and beginning to hop down the path, joining my little caravan. I was nearing the end of the more defined path and reaching an area thick with brush. I carefully pushed on, making sure not to lose any of my little friends on the way. There was a sheer black veil stuck in some branches. I plucked it out and draped it over my shoulders. I was fighting with the wood for a bit, earning my fair share of scrapes, before breaking through to a small clearing. It contained an old well and a large grandfather clock. This clock, however, was quietly ticking, marking the passage of time.  I walked up to the well and peered in. I saw my own reflection staring back at me. When I waved, she waved. When I smiled, she did too. Satisfied at seeing my own reflection for what felt like the first time in years, I looked around the clearing to see where I was supposed to head next. I heard a whirring sound pass by my head. The tiny seashell angel from my snow globe was flitting about the air, smiling. She guided me to an almost imperceptible path. If I hadn’t had her there, I wouldn’t have known it existed. I followed her down, down, down until I came upon another door. This one plain and wooden. But it seemed warm and inviting. Come on in if you’d like, or don’t if you don’t. There was a small side table next to the door. It had a dainty and ornate silver handheld mirror on it. The angel fluttered near it, so I picked it up. My reflection stared back at me but this time she spoke. 

“Now it’s time to make your final decision. There’s no going back after this. Head through the door and you’ll be home. But you mustn’t bring anything from this place with you. Absolutely nothing may return with you.” 

I looked around at all of the creatures and things I’d collected on my journey. Each one a precious, and sometimes scary, memory of my time with my grandmother here in this place. I was afraid to leave them all behind. It felt like I was leaving my grandmother behind too. But I knew it was what needed to be done. I nodded to the little angel. Waved goodbye to the world I was leaving. And I carefully pushed through the door.

I was suddenly in my bedroom. Everything felt familiar yet unfamiliar. My bedsheets seemed a slightly different shade of blue. The walls much darker than I’d remembered. My bookshelf messier than I’d thought I’d left it. And on my desk lay an unfamiliar yet familiar object. A beautiful emerald green book with gold lettering on the cover and spine. It was open face down as if I’d left in the middle of a chapter. I don’t remember what it was about though. I wonder if I should pick up where I left off?