Room 28

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She is sitting calmly in room 28. The means to her end are on the old-fashioned and worn bedside table.
She doesn’t feel any guilt or doubt about her decision. Why should she? She wants out and it’s nobody’s business but her own.

She feels nothing, although if probed, she would admit to a small sense of relief drifting through the vast nothingness that inhabits her.
Going under, leaving it all behind while the squawks of the seagulls echo outside her window feels – just – right. Exactly as it should be.

She specifically asked for room 28 – her whole purposeless existence and a smidgenΒ of irony has led her to this very room.
In room 28, she is going to put an end to her 28 years on this earth – shuffle off this mortal coil – cut all ties to a world she cares nothing for.
In room 28, she is going to lay down and peacefully wait for the nothing to engulf her.

In room 28, time slows down and eventually stops as the outside world fades away.

Author’s note (how pretentious of me): as I was coming up to the top of a very steep street a couple of weeks ago, I was faced with this building I’ve seen hundreds of times before, and this idea suddenly came to me; what could be going on inside I wondered? And this tragic story popped into my head right there and then, standing in the sunshine surrounded by pedestrians and traffic. Why so morbid? I have no idea. But my ideas usually come out of nowhere like that (which makes me a totalΒ freak in the eyes of some, and an ‘artist’ in the eyes of others) and either fade away to nothing once I mull over them – or persist and keep nagging somewhere at the back of my mind which means they need to be told. This short tale was one of the latter.

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21 thoughts on “Room 28

  1. In my eyes you are definitely an artist…there are so many people writing poems on their blogs…and many of them are brilliant…but for me your poems are definitely among the very very best…they always affect me and speak directly to my heart because the words you use make them so atmospheric and beautiful. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you very much πŸ™‚ To be honest, I wasn’t so sure of that because English is not my first language…I’m sometimes questioning whether I am able to express things the way I want them to be expressed. So your words really mean a lot to me ❀

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You’re doing a great job! English isn’t my first language either and I do (obviously) feel more comfortable with French so I know exactly where you’re coming from πŸ™‚ ❀

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I would never have guessed that English is not your first language…I’m amazed at your mastery of the English language…after all you are able to compose perfect poetry in that language ❀

        Liked by 2 people

      4. Thank you, I am French but I do live in England now hence I really should be able to have a good grasp of English πŸ˜‰
        As for you, same! I would never have known! Are you actually German? I assumed you must be English and living over there. Your posts are clear and really well-written, I really had no idea ❀

        Liked by 1 person

  2. A sad story but true. (Unfortunately I’ve had too many such “decisions” in my family)
    In the end it is always an illusion. People who chose suicide think they will end the pain they feel.
    They will not. They will just stop feeling.
    A good story though.

    Like

  3. Well, I think you’re an artist and I really like when you add the source of your inspiration. It provides some perspective around the story.
    In this one, I like your description of the gentle drifting away.

    Liked by 1 person

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