write about a worldly place that is a threshold for you. this can mean anything-- maybe it's some place between end and beginning, forward and backward, past and present, here and there, friends and lovers, or something else entirely!

INT- THE HOUSE, BEDROOM

The BEDROOM is shrouded in darkness. The only source of light within the room emanates from the GIRL's mobile phone- she's been scrolling so long that she's long forgotten what time it is; one can only guess that it's midnight. She takes her time noticing the AUDIENCE, gaze fixated on her screen.
GIRL: I've always shared my space with someone else. Be it my brother, my mother or my grandmother. Comes with the territory, I think. Small houses. More expensive rent. Not to mention I never really had the time to go anywhere, really. It was always home to school to home. Occasionally, I'd go to the mall to eat with my friends, but it wasn't a threshold, more a liminal space: a place to pass through.
GIRL: So, my answer to this question isn't going to be very interesting.

None of my answers to any of these prompts will be, really. I can only hope that the way I answer them adds something of value.

GIRL: As you know, I'm an Internet girl. I was raised by it, born in it, lived inside of it.
GIRL: Cliche as it is, the BEDROOM at midnight is more or less my threshold. It's narratively perfect- it's where you go to welcome the day's end, and where you start the day upon waking. It's where you stay during the transition to the future-now-present. 'It'll get better tomorrow. Tomorrow's a new day. A new beginning.' Do you guys see the pattern?
GIRL: ...I think I used to hate going to sleep as a child. Did you know that? I'd spend hours after school scrolling through social media, unable to pry myself away. They called this REVENGE BEDTIME PROCRASTINATION. It's when you choose to stay up until late at night to compensate for the time you spent in the day doing something you don't want to do. Wouldn't be bothered to, if the circumstances allowed it. You want any sort of control on your miserable life, you crave doing something that isn't so demanding, so you resort to mindless scrolling. You get tired of constantly being switched 'on'. For work, for school, for all sorts of responsibilities.
GIRL: Revenge on the world. It feels like being a kid again, throwing a tantrum because your mother's asking you to go and sleep early to get up early for school, except you're your own mother and your own child.
GIRL: It's like purgatory. I think if purgatory was real, it would be a girl's bedroom at midnight.

The GIRL scrolls some more on her phone.

GIRL: How do you define a threshold, really? The dictionary says it's "a place or point of beginning, when something is starting.". But I feel it's another way to say limbo- between 'existence' and 'non-existence'.
GIRL: In this way, the BEDROOM is a threshold, too. The irony of me, the GIRL, lying down on my bed, in a place where I'm expected to do nothing for eight hours, still being, still awake. Subconsciously, I felt like no one was supposed to be awake at midnight- the forbidden times. The thought excited me. It felt like a real life pause button- nevermind my belief that 'midnight' was part of 'yesterday' and not 'today'. At midnight, I could catch up on all the fun I've missed. I could play games, I could talk to my friends on the other side of the world, I could write and draw and do whatever I wanted. And it wouldn't affect anything. I'd still go back to school, I'd still pay attention in classes, I'd still do my homework and assignments. The world couldn't get me there. I was safe. I was safe.
GIRL: I think my issue was that I preferred the threshold more than existing.
GIRL: Eventually, the threshold consumed me. I hated the world even more, duller and more dreary than the vibrant world of the Internet. I'd wake up later and later. I'd forgo homework for 'a quick break from productivity'. It didn't help that I felt incapable of existing in the real world- ill-prepared socially, academically, and psychologically. I'd wanted to upload my brain to the Internet. A permanent pause. Living in the threshold.
GIRL: But then I finally reached the edge of the threshold.
GIRL: I'd fall asleep.
GIRL: And then tomorrow would no longer be on the brink of beginning.

The GIRL unceremoniously drops onto the bed, limp. Her eyes flutter shut. The phone falls to the wooden floor. Silence, nothing but the sound of koels chirping.
She is snoring.
But most importantly, she is as peaceful as she was in the THRESHOLD.