Room 1414
I'm lying on the bed, my mind endlessly restless - searching for something, like a memory, in the barren and infinite desert of my brain. I shift my position and try not to think.
The room contains a wooden bed, a window long shut, and an old desk stacked with books meant to kill time.
I recognize this room, but I don't know when I entered it. Maybe it's been a day, a week, or even years… The only thing I clearly remember is the pale, crooked number on the door: 1414.
It feels like I was born in this room - and that I'm meant to die here.
A soft voice, like that of a little girl, begins to echo faintly from the far end of the room, slowly getting closer.
I freeze in place, trying to remember the voice - but it's unfamiliar.
Then, without any warning, she begins:
"What are you waiting for? Why haven't you disappeared from the stage yet?"
My mouth goes dry, cold sweat drips from my face. I loosen the top button of my collar to breathe more easily.
Maybe this is another nightmare - like the nightmare that is my life.
I look around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but I find nothing.
The question is repeated.
In a trembling voice, I respond:
+ Who are you?
- It's too soon for that question. What are you searching for? Why don't you free yourself?
+ I don't understand what you mean. Why should I do such a thing?
- Breathing doesn't mean living. If you don't know where you came from or why you're here - if you don't know your destiny - why keep going?
+ Who are you? Why are you saying these things?
- I came only to show you the way, to open your cage just a little…
+ I don't need to talk to anyone or pour my heart out. That's exactly why I entered this room - of my own will. Don't waste your time. Leave me alone.
- But you're deeply mistaken… Coming to this room won't fix anything. It only distances you from reality - it deceives you. I've come to place a better option before you.
+ I've already heard your suggestion. It's too difficult for me.
- More difficult than continuing this life? Are you so cowardly, so weak, so broken that you let a creator decide for you - play with you in this world he made, and summon you whenever he pleases?
I pick up a cigarette from the table and light it as I reflect on her words.
The smoke swirls and fades, just like all my memories. Silence fills the room for several minutes, until I finally break it:
+ No one has seen me in a long time. No one knows anything about me. I haven't even seen my own face in a mirror or spoken to myself in ages. Who are you to comfort me with your words or pretend you want to help me? I've been cast out by this world - just let me be…
- I've only come to encourage you, to smooth the path for you. If you're different from others, if you don't fit in, you shouldn't let nature destroy you. Otherwise, you've already lost.
+ I've been a loser in this game for a long time. Ever since I entered this room, I lost myself - lost my life. There's nothing left for me to lose.
- Then what are you waiting for? If there's nothing left, why haven't you acted yet?
+ Maybe… maybe someone is still looking for me. If I'm still alive, it's only because that hope won't let me go through with it. Maybe the door will open. Maybe someone will come for me.
- Do you even know how long you've been wasting your life in here? Who do you think will come for you? Does anyone even know who you are?
Again, I search the vast, barren desert of my mind, trying to recall and name even a single person - but there's no one to be found in that wasteland.
+ You're right. No one knows me. And I know no one. You're right - I should end it…
I walk toward the wooden desk and take out the steel revolver I've kept from the past. I take a deep breath and wipe the cold sweat from my forehead. I gently press the revolver against my temple - and with a single motion, I bring my life to an end…
