One night, at 2 AM, I decide to get out of bed, after finally deciding that sleep is not visiting tonight. I start talking to my friend about nothing in particular and I head to the bathroom. I turn on the light and go in. We talk about random stuff before she decides to go to sleep. Alone again, oh well. When I come out though, I stop. There’s a door in front of my bathroom – a door that wasn’t there previously. I stand there stunned. What in the world? I skirt away from it, and go to my room, directly behind the wall that the door appeared in. My room is still there, my sister asleep. Neurons were firing away in my head – I didn’t know what to make of the situation. Years of fictional interdimensional spaces and otherworldly apparitions and portals told me that whatever was behind that door would either be terrible or wonderful. It would either be the start of my adventures through space and time, or it would melt my face right off. Logic said to stay away from it, to be safe. To lead a humdrum life. Fiction told me to dive right in and if my demise be there, to meet it with a cool final phrase.
I open the door, and inside, is nothing. Darkness. After a second, the light comes on, and it’s … just a room. An empty room. I gingerly step in…and hear a slight crunch under my foot. Looking down reveals a piece of paper, an unassuming little thing. Removing my foot reveals a calligrapher’s beautiful handwriting. It simply says “3”. Inside the fold are more words – “1 person, 3 things. No more.” As I read the words aloud, the piece of paper flashes. I shield my eyes, but the sheet has now combust, ashless. It disappears and I stare at my empty palm. Silence.
I sit down. My attention flickers here and there, but here and there are the same. I start thinking, about nothing in particular. After a while, I leave the room and close the door. I am shaken, but I manage to check that it is securely closed and I go to sleep.
Next morning, I go and check – the room isn’t there. I wonder if it was simply a dream, though it felt very real. I decided not to tell anyone – I couldn’t be sure anyway. Over the course of the day, the thought of the empty room faded further and further back as I got busy with other things. At night though, I remembered the room. I went to check if it was there.
Nothing. I stood there. I checked the time. It was past 2 AM. I guess it had been a dream after all. For some reason, I wished it would be real…
There it was!
For the next few days, I experimented with that room, and how to make it appear and what I could do with it. Eventually, I decorated it with a grid made of colored Sellotape. It now resembled the Dreamatorium from Community. I would go in to have a good long think about things. It was a liberating space, free from judgement and idiocy and blame. It was a haven to be used to be alone. I’d always admired the idea of a room made just to think in, and I saw the potential that a space like that had. It could bring focus where distractions reigned supreme. It could open out the mind and free it from the entrapments of television and media.
The tape counted as one item. Sometimes I would bring in a chair or a mattress to be more comfortable, and often I’d bring my laptop too, so that I could put down my thoughts and ideas into words. My “ThinkSpace”, as I have christened it, has been my motivating factor in producing many of my works. In fact, I’m in it right now.
This is in response to the Daily Prompt from 5th June, 2014. If you liked it, please tell me in the comments below, or with a like.
My other stuff is in my Library, and there’s a recommended section too!
Thank you for reading! 😀