He huddled his torso close to his legs, with his arms holding his shins as he pressed his face into his knees. His eyes scrunched close, so tightly it began to hurt him. As he slowly raised his head, the piercing white light hit his cheeks, reflecting perfect silver trails. Still clutching his shins he attempted to wipe the glistening beauty onto the sleeve of his dirty white t-shirt. The man looked straight ahead then he slowly moved his head so as to see the room.
Although he had seen it before he could not help but wonder at the marvelling bleakness that surrounded him. That trapped him. Directly before him, from his position in the room, was a plain, crisp white door. There was something strange about the entire room but this door was particularly odd – it had no handle. No escape. Behind him in the centre of the wall was a large mirror. It would have been clean but a man crazed with anger had previously slapped his palms against it in a fit of rage. In some hope of escape he had tried to break through to a quiet separated world, inside the reflections of the mirror.
With exception to these two features the room was completely white. A room with no warmth, no shadows, no character, no expression, it was empty.
The man returned to his former position. Curled up, in hope his body would be tight enough to exclude the outside world from his. A world he no longer had a place in. A world of cold, harsh, judging faces no longer tolerant. A world with loss, pain, grievance and inward despair. All the people he loved had left him, or he lost them in a moment of unknowing, un-telling feeling.
As he sat alone he began to shiver with pain. The pain had finally broken through his wall of tensed muscle. His body now stiff from shuddering so hard, convulsions of loss took him over. The faint sobs could barely be heard in the corners of the room. Soon they grew louder then anger came from beneath them. A low growl between sniffs that soon became too much to hold in, a thunderous scream came through from his soul; it did not leave the room.
Again he returned to his state of silence. Pure, deafening, lonely silence. The convulsions had stopped, everything was completely still. Even his breathing was too quiet for it to be audible. Soon the time passed and still he sat, with his face hidden from the world.
He began to rock slowly whilst still holding his shins. Soon after this he began to hum The Wedding March. Before he was alone, this man was engaged to a beautiful young woman. This woman had perfectly straight golden blonde hair. Her eyes were deep pools of serenity, a stunning hazel colour. She had always been so full of life, with a forever twinkle in her eye.
Her skin was pale and pure but still she had colour in her. Her hands were smoother than perfected glass and she had a voice of an angel. The two had never tired of the other’s company. Side by side they had walked for so long, hand in hand they had lived life and loved it. Regardless, a day came when the man locked his heart to her, then all she saw was the pain.
Now too late, this man has opened his heart once more, only to share it with nobody. Tranquilly he remained seating, rocking, humming and clutching his body. As his tune faded away to the back of his throat, again the silence took over and crushed him. In the distance he heard a sound of life, footsteps, a woman’s steps, growing louder, coming closer. He raised his head to the door, to see her standing there, his fiancée, she still bore his ring.
She wore a light blue dress, almost weightless, that fell down to her feet, her golden hair sweeping over her arms as it reached so far down her spine. She was beautiful.
The two gazed into each other’s eyes, neither knowing what to say, until finally she broke her statue like stance, walked forward and crouched before him. As she brought his hand away from his body, she held it, and whispered to him, “You are forgiven.”.
As the words left her lips, he relaxed instantly, still he remained seated and still he remained gazing into her eyes. As she began to loosen her hold on his hand, he uttered in desperation,
“Please don’t leave me here”
“I am not leaving yet, I came to reassure you, that I do not bear a grudge on you, I do not seek revenge. I forgive you.” She replied to him, she let go of his hand and stood up slowly. “If you could escape from here, from this life, would you come to me?”
“Yes, I would” He said this with such confidence; it defied all of this previous behaviour. “How? How can I get out? Please tell me, I hate it here.”
“You have to believe that you can get away, I know you hate it here, I also know it is not just this room that you hate,” she answered, “You hate being alone, don’t you?”
“I can’t stand it, this damned forever silence is destroying me inside. No one will help me, nobody cares any more.”
“I still care. The silence only stays because you let it, you listen to it, ignore it and it won’t linger any more.” She advised him. Then they were still, he sat, and she stood, until he grew the courage to stand again. As he straightened his legs, then his back and neck, he did not take his eyes off her. For fear she could leave him. As he approached her, he felt his heart more open than it ever had been before. He reached out with both arms and laid his hands on her shoulders. He slowly ran his hands down her arms until he reached her hands and held them.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, “will you wait for me?”
“I will, I will wait for you at our old house. I will stay there for an eternity to wait for you to come.”
“Thank you.” He smiled his first smile in many months, knowing that he had regained the love he had lost, a piece of humanity to keep him sane.
For many hours they spoke, they listened, they laughed until it came that she had to depart from him.
“Remember, I’ll wait for you in the house. Do not forget me there.” With that she slowly leant forward and kissed him lightly on his lips. “Remember me. Goodbye.” He could not say anything to her, as she knew he was sorry and she had forgiven him. She turned for the door, he turned away for he could not bear to see her leave him again. When he turned back, she had gone.
Alone again he wandered around the room, in a clockwise motion, he paced a circle in the square room. Suddenly his mind was awash with thoughts, thoughts he had not experienced in his constant mourning and misery. At this moment he began to speak, to an unseen replier.
“Yes, I will remember her, I will get away and I will go to her” A slight smile crept over his lips as he uttered these words, then in a flash his eyes widened and the smile was stolen away, “How can you get out? There has to be a way somehow” His face again changed, from being taught to afraid like a lost child, “But how?” Again his eyes widened and this time came with a slight frown, “You might as well give up” His face changed to an angry defiance, “No! I will not give up on her, I will go to her!” He continued as such for a vast period of time, as time was all he had to comfort him in the room, he did not mind.
Eventually, when his bare feet became sore and cold from hours pacing, he stopped still and stood. “I will leave this place, I will leave now.” No sooner had he finished did he start for the door, as he reached out for it, it opened from the other side. A dark-haired middle-aged woman stood in the doorway, dressed in a blue blouse and skirt, with black flat-heeled shoes.
“Where you going, then?” She said mockingly yet harshly.
“I’m leaving, I’m going home, I have no reason to be here.” His reply did not please this woman,
“No, you are staying here. You have to stay here.” She growled
“But, why?” He pleaded
“You killed your fiancée, you were deemed unstable, you are here, and you are staying here.” She explained sternly, “Now move back from the doorway.” She proceeded to place a tray on the floor just inside the door, turned and slammed the door shut. He listened as he heard keys locking him inside his little white box, no way out.
Stunned he stood there for several minutes, staring blindly in the now empty nothingness before him. He noticed the tray lain on the floor, curiously he went and stood over it. Food. A tray of food. Yet in her haste the previous woman had neglected to remove cutlery from this particular tray.
“Ah well, life goes on, until your food kills you.” He muttered to himself, as he bent over and lifted the tray. He carried it back to the centre of the floor, and sat himself back in his place. With a smile on his face he said one last thing before he ate, “I’m going home.”.