Looking

Looking down the darkened hallway, I see the crack of a door, light pouring from it's tiny opening on the bare floor. My own door creaks as I realize I am leaning on the knob as I furtively peer around it's half closed concealment. My bare feet feel the floor; could I stealthily creep down the hallway to investigate? I try to recall the creaks and cracks, sparing a few words to my undetailed memory.

I risk it, feeling the floor beneath my feet, rolling silently and slowly through my toes step by step along the corridor. The light becomes bigger and darkens the dark around me. I hear small nothings in the room, deafened by the sound of my attempted silence, breathing, and thoughts.

More now than before, the curiosity owns me and compels me forward. I know not what I would do or say if discovered; resigned, I realize the truth is my closest ally: curiosity.

What is behind the door? What compels me forward this day, this night?