It’s merely a room.
The floorboards creak as you enter and capture your every movement.
The paint on the ceiling chips and drops, aimless snowflakes fluttering by.
Barren walls and an isolated bed, marooned in its endless sea.
But as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you’ll make out a creature on the bed.
The creature lays motionless through the hours.
Strangers drop by at random, armed with nauseatingly sweet bouquets and tissues to cry into.
“It’s such a shame she ended up like this”, they say.
“What a waste.”
The creature listens, passive as she melts into the mattress.
The bed pulls her in gradually, further and further in.
She tries to get out from time to time.
“Why resist the inevitable, when you’d just be speeding up the process?” laughs the Bed.
The creature can’t argue, so she stays.
The leaves change colours and rain cleans the streets, but the creature stays.
One day, someone new enters the room. Arms empty of flowers, no tears of remorse. He stops by the bed, and taps the creature on the arm.
“Come on, get up.” The creature freezes, calculating.
“Get up, you’ve been here too long.”
“But I’m dead.” The creature ponders.
“How could you be dead, when I hear you and you hear me? You’re alive, even if everyone around you forgets it. Remember yourself.”
The creature can’t argue, so she sits up. She floats like a snowflake in the harsh storm. She feels the air wrap around her like a hug. And, newly alive, she walks out the door.