She opened the door.

She opened the door.
Why?
 
Surely nothing good could be waiting behind it.
That old and scarred wooden door.
It would be better if she just let it be.
Not releasing the unknown that's lurking on the other side.
It would be easier.

The room had always felt all right, it felt safe.
Opening the door would risk ruining everything.
Yet she still grabbed the rusty metal handle.
Why?

Because she realised that nothing would be ruined.
Whatever was behind the wooden door was just a new step in her life.
A step from which she will continuously move on to another step,
no matter what kind of step the previous one was.

Because it didn't really matter what was on the other side,
just as long as it was something new,
be it terrifying or wonderful.

Because there is no good or bad change. Just change.
And that's what she wanted. Change.
Something unpredictable.
Something other than this room.

So she opened the door.
Why?

Because she had decided that she wanted to live.
Even if it would kill her.