Doorbell.

Ding. Dong. Not the Dantes nor the Avanzado. It is how a doorbell sounds when you ring it. Ding. Dong. Then someone comes out and opens the door for you. The next question is: will she let you in?

Ding. Dong. Someone knocks on her door. She has closed her door for a long time. She can see through the windows, but it's locked as well. No one can come in. Only one person has the key to her door. If someone tries to climb at her window, she'd open up to only one person.

Ding. Dong. He's not Dantes. The other one's not Avanzado. And they are not limited to only Dantes and Avanzado. Still, as of now the heart's waiting for that particular person who's finger was destined to touch and ring the bell. And the bell wouldn't just sound as Ding Dong. It would create a beautiful melody that only the heart can recognize; that when heard, the door and even the window will instantly open. It will illuminate all the things inside her sanctuary full of broken glass and shattered memories. As if it hadn't been visited for a long time. Well, it really hasn't. No one dared, anyway. Oh no, her friends always tell her she never let anyone, anyway. True. But that is because the last person who was able to get inside took away the key and never left a spare.

What had happened after that left her alone. Empty. Deft. She wasn't able to hear any bells anymore. However, she forgot that what he took was the key. Not her heart. Not her ears nor even the doorknob that she can use to open the door from inside out. Has she forgotten that she is the only one who can open that door to anyone who rings the bell? As she did when he rang the bell, went inside and took away the key? Probably, the sadness and the loneliness caused her to forget that she has full control of her sanctuary and that she can always open the door whenever she's ready. She CHOSE not to listen to anyone who rings the bell. Or climbs to her window. Or shouts her name. She chose not to touch that doorknob, let alone look at it. As if she doesn't have any intention of touching it.

But now she knows better. As the time pass by she realize the things she forgot. Or chose to forget. Slowly she comes near the doorknob, listening to those who tries their fingers on the doorbell; to those who shouts her name; to those who dare to climb her wall to her window. She peeks through her window to see who was waiting for her outside. She knows better now. She knows that someday, she will have the strength to touch that doorknob, twist it and swing the door open to the right person. The one who will own her heart. Forever.