THE METAL DOOR

by Ariadna Olguin

It was a sunny, windy day. The tall green trees moved from one side to the other as if they were dancing. The small, happy Chihuahuas were eating their crunchy brown food in the front yard. Happy small birds were chasing each other like little kids fighting for a candy. Everything was going perfectly, until we had to close that tall metal door. This green metal door changed the life of one of my younger brothers, Jerry. He was only four years old when this tragic accident happened.

“Close the door!” I said.

Everything suddenly seemed in slow motion, like in the movies. The door was about to close on its own; the warm humid breeze was trying to close it. He ran toward the tall metal door as if he was in a race. His short brown hair, his small white eyes were looking at me and he nodded. I looked away because I knew he had obeyed me. I heard the strong metal door slam. At first, everything was quiet. Then, in the distance, a short fast click, a long painful scream, it was my little brother. His small pinky finger was stock between the strong cold door and the doorframe. He screamed trying to open the tall, heavy door, but it was useless; he could not reach the high, black handle.

Running as fast as I could, I opened the door. Half of his pinky finger was lying on the cold, bloody floor. He did not see anything. As soon as I saw that his finger was lying on the floor I hug him as if I was hugging a soft delicate pillow. I seized my brother in my shaking arms. His tiny, warm body hugged me hard and little by little this hug became less and less powerful; he had fainted. Damp chilly tears of fury rolled down my crimson cheeks. I ran as fast as I could through the frosty breeze. It seemed like my grandma’s house was getting farther and farther away. We called the ambulance and everything was under control.