Welcome To My Closet Novels & Stories

“You’re not.” “Not even a little.” I straighten, already curious. “Come on. Open it. I want to see what you’ve got for me.” He doesn’t argue. He just opens the doors. I step inside and stop. The walk-in closet is enormous, the kind of space that makes you hesitate without realising why. Everything is immaculate, organised down to the last hanger. Colours are grouped neatly, fabrics spaced with care. It doesn’t feel obsessive. Just deliberate.

I’d hate to be exposed like that, knowing there are cruel people out there. I pulled out a fresh pair of green laced panties. That’s another embarrassing thing about me. I liked…stuff that would be considered weird for ‘men’. Like, panties, lip glosses, stuffies. There’s a section in my closet that has quite a number of stuffies hidden. Basically, my closet hides my preferences to everyone. Everyone but Indra.

I don't even bother looking at it; it wouldn't make a difference if what I do today anyways. I head upstairs to our bedroom, more like my bedroom these days, and go right to the closet. My tiny safe sits behind the power suits I wear to work, so I pull it out to grab what I need. Everytime I pull this piece out I'm enamored with how it glints in the light, how it casts little rainbows over the walls in the room. I don't waste much time though, if I want to get over to the storage unit I need to move fast. It slides back into it's velvet pouch easily and I toss it in my bag as I head back out.

Anyway, time to make a change. I’m 19. I’m not about to live like a depressed ghost in cashmere. If I’ve been given this body and this life, then I’m going to live it. And maybe destroy a few enemies along the way. So, first I’d go shopping and upgrade this disaster of a closet. The Mall I strolled into the boutique like a woman with no worries. My heels clicked like I’d been born in Louboutins. “Excuse me,” I waved at a salesgirl.

Because it does not I stand up from the ground and walk around the room. There's a made bed in here, and the theme of the room is white and gray. I notice a grand closet, and my leg carries me towards it. I open it up to see clothes... And they're all my size. What the hell is going on here? The underwear, the jeans, the tops, the gown—they're all perfectly fitted to my body. I shut the closet immediately and stepped away from it, clutching my chest hard.

Diana As I step into the walk-in closet, my breath catches in my throat. The space before me is nothing short of magnificent, a room that could easily grace the pages of a high-end fashion magazine. The closet stretches out, seemingly endless, divided neatly into two sections - his and hers. My eyes roam over the rows of designer clothes, each piece more beautiful than the last. Silk blouses, tailored suits, flowing dresses in every color imaginable. The shoe collection alone is enough to make my head spin - elegant heels, comfortable flats, and sturdy boots, all arranged in perfect order.

It was too late to rectify the past, but as this house was due for renovations, I resolved to transform these ten closet doors into a grand walk-in closet. As I faced my reflection in the mirror, making the final adjustments to my appearance, I couldn't help but appreciate the allure of black. It had been my favorite color since childhood, known only to my parents, my best friend Sam, and me. Others who knew me were unaware of this aspect of my personality. Just as I donned my coat, a knock resonated through the door of my room. Could it be Manang* Albe, the housemaid? "Yes?" I called out, curiosity lacing my voice.

She led me to a glass door but not a transparent one though. “ If you need anything please give me a call, “ she said with a bow . My room is really beautiful. It is painted light nude . Nude is my favorite color . All my stuff was already neatly arranged . I walk towards the closet to get rid of my gown . I’m surprised to see all my clothes here . The walk-in closet was filled withp clothes of various brands Dior, Valentino, fendi , prada and lots more . I feel like a princess but also guilty . I should be moaning not feeling like a princess. Dad is dead and mom just got married.

I inhale deeply, savoring the earthiness that clings to the air before turning to the rest of my morning. The closet greets me with orderly rows of fabric and color, a testament to my exacting nature. Deep jewel tones and soft, neutral palettes line the shelves, each piece carefully selected to project a different facet of my persona. In the back corner, hidden in the shadow of the door, a soft leather jacket hangs among the business wear, its presence both foreign and familiar. I do not touch it. Not today.

I can’t believe my luck. Hurrying silently back down the hallway, I enter my room and leave the door open just a crack. I walk into my closet and scan the racks for something to wear. Moving to the section where my gowns are, I sift through the expensive fabrics and come up blank. For some reason, the gowns just aren’t doing it for me right now.