ROOM WITH A RED DOOR
I live in a room.
A room with a red door.
My room has no windows but just this door. A big wide Red door. A door that never opens. A door that has no locks but it always remains shut. This red door protects me and my room from everything bad that's happening outside. But I don't even know what is the actual definition of bad. I was just told it's for my safety. Someone's been telling this to me in my head for a very long time.
I don't know what is in the other side of this red door.
But someday I wish to see.
In my room, it's always night. Dark, cold and long silent nights. Sun has never risen to my room. But sometimes I can feel the sun...it runs through my veins.
I can sense it's warmth and light flowing slowly within my body. It makes me feel stable.
There are moments when I feel to go outside. I've never been to anywhere else except my room. I so want to see what is happening to the world.
But I can't. Somehow I feel my hands and legs are tied up with something. I can't see any ropes yet I feel the constant pain as if they are stuck with something tight.
My room doesn’t have any air. At least not that I know of. I always feel suffocated in here. I can sense myself grasping for air. But I can't find any. I want to breathe. But I don’t know how to. So I try to inhale this suffocation so that it can reach into my heart and lungs.
Then it might find a way itself to get me free from this room...for the first and last time.
It hurts sometimes, the suffocation, it feels heavy...really heavy, but then again I ask myself, which one hurts the most?
I've been living in this room my whole life.
I close my eyes to get some sleep and all I see is darkness. I open my eyes to avoid that darkness, but all I see is darkness again.
I live in a room with a red door.
