The Room

Suddenly a room appears. This room is white. It’s not a normal kind of white. It’s the kind of white that hurts to look at, like snow shinning in the winter sun. There is a girl standing in this room. There is nothing that stands out about her except her clothes. They are torn and dirty. They appear to have once been white, perhaps the same white as the room but they have been worn and damaged. And by what one might ask? The answer is no one knows. The girl is standing in the center of this room. She does not move. She stands there looking forward, her eyes a misty gray reflecting something unknown that stirs deep inside of her. There is no noise in this room, except for the slow steady drum of her heart and the sounds of her breathe as she breaths…in and out, in and out.  There is nothing happening in this room outside of the existence of this girl.

Just as someone would begin to move away from the room a tear falls from this girl’s eye. Which eye it is doesn’t matter because the significant thing about this tear is that it is red, a bright, startling red. As it falls down her cheek she becomes aware of its existence. She slowly and carefully reaches up and touches it. She holds her hand to her cheek as if she is surprised that she has skin. As she pulls her hand away, with the red tear now partially smeared on it, more of these unique tears begin to slowly drift down her face. She gazes at her hand and sees the red. There is no emotion of her face; it is as blank as it was when the room first appeared. She drops her hand back to her side and goes back to standing perfectly still gazing straight ahead, the only difference being the steady stream of bright red tears falling down her face.

These tears begin to fall to her clothes, the red staining her already filthy garments. She does nothing to stop the flow of these tears. She stands there unmoving, looking straight ahead. Her breathing seems unaffected by the tears that are flowing. That tears flow more quickly now and she seems to be unaware of how quickly her faded white clothes are turning red. The floor around her is beginning to show the evidence of her tears. Even though the flow has quickened and her clothes and floor are becoming stained, the tears do nothing to change her.

Just as quickly as the room appeared there is suddenly a crowd of people in this room. They move quickly, walking past the girl not noticing her or the bright red tears that have now pooled around her feet. She just stands there unfazed by the crowd, unaffected by her tears, breathing in and out slowly and steadily.

The room is becoming more congested with people. As they hurry past the girl they begin to knock into her. Some of the people brush past her; others knock her so hard it’s a miracle she doesn’t fall over. But even with being knocked around, even with the crowd of people, even with the red tears pooled around her feet and her clothes stained red she does not move. She remains standing, her breathing unchanged.

The crowd slowly disappears and the girl is alone again. The tears have not stopped their flow and there is now a puddle at her feet. She stands in the room unchanged by nothing.

Then there is a man in the room and he is looking right at her. He is directly in her line of vision but she does not appear to see him. The man observes her for a while. Watching as the pool of tears begins to expand.

Just now the girl notices the man. Her eyes lock onto his. They both stare at one another neither moving, both breathing slowly. The man begins to walk slowly toward this girl. He draws close to her. As his bare feet begin to move through the pool of red tears the surround her, her eyes begin to reflect fear. The man stops, just out of arms reach, standing in the red tears. She continues to stare directly into his eyes, but for the second time since her and the room appeared there is movement. She has begun to tremble. Her entire body is shaking and the man simply watches. She slowly rocks forward onto the balls of her feet, then back onto her heels causing her to rock back and forth as she stands trembling. She rocks back and forth, shaking and crying her red tears, all the while her eyes showing fear. Her condition worsens and she loses the ability to stand. Her knees meet the floor, where she is then looking up into the man’s eyes. Now she buries her head in her hands and curls into a ball on the floor. She is now lying in her pool of red tears sobbing uncontrollably. Her breathing is no longer slow and steady. She gasps for air between her sobs. The noise feels the room. It’s unlike any sound ever heard before. The pitch and volume would hurt any normal person’s ears but the man seems unfazed. He stands above her gazing softly down at this now broken girl.

And she is broken. Only this man, this one person, knows how truly broken she is. He has been watching her even before her and the room appeared; he was simply out of sight. Behind her blank stare was a story. Behind those tears of blood was a wound. She didn’t want to acknowledge the wound. She did her best to ignore it. She did a good job too. If it hadn’t been for the appearance of those tears nothing would have changed. Not even the crowd of people slamming into her fazed her. If it had not of been for the appearance of this man, and his desire to close to gap between them then she would have never acknowledged to wound. But now she has no choice. He is too close. He is standing in the mess she has made and she cannot hide from him, so she comes to pieces.

She is now on the floor sobbing uncontrollably. She doesn’t dare look up to gaze into the eyes of this strange man. She doesn’t want him to see her; she wants him to go away. But he is unmoved. It’s as though he is waiting for something, but what, no one knows. A screaming noise begins to escape the girl’s mouth. There are no words, just screams. The sound feels the room. It should frighten the man, all this noise and blood, but he is unfazed. As if the beginning of the screaming was his cue he kneels next to the girl. He reaches out a hand and places it on her back as though to soothe her. But to her it is like hot coals. For the first time words begin to form. “Stop, stop!” She screams. It’s as though his touch is causing her unbearable pain, even though he is barely touching her. Even though she screams and sobs, shakes and cries, the man does not move his hand from her back. He stays by her side.

Then this man does something that seems completely absurd; he sits on the floor, in her tears of blood and scoops her into his arms. He cradles her gently and begins to rock her, like a mother rocking her child to sleep. Even though this man has done nothing to harm her, she continues to scream as though he is causing her unbearable pain.

Then he speaks. What he said, no one knows. But at the sound of his voice she stills. Her breathing is still fast and shallow but she no longer wails, she no longer cries, she lies in his arms, trembling slightly. And he holds her. He is not fazed by anything this girl has done, he seems completely content to sit the rocking this girl back and forth in a soothing sort of way.

Slowly the red begins to disappear from the floor. The pool of blood becomes smaller until it is completely gone. Then her clothes begin to change. The red fades away slowly and her clothes become white again; not the faded dirty white they were to begin with either, they are pure white, like the room around her. The blood does not however, disappear from the man’s clothes. The pool of blood he was sitting in no longer exists but his clothes are still stained red.

The girls breathing has returned to its slow rate and the drum beat of her heart can be heard again. She sits up in this man’s lap and looks around. She looks first at her surroundings, then at herself. She touches her clothes first, then her face. She pulls her hand away to exam it, and realizes that the tears of blood are no longer there. The entire time that she is exploring her surroundings the man is watching her, a simple smile on his face. Then she looks into his eyes for the second time. They look at one another for a while and then something amazing happens. She smiles. It’s a beautiful smile too; just as bright and dazzling as the room around her.

Even those this story is coming to a close, the tale of this girl continues. She and this mysterious man continue to sit on the floor. He is still stained with her tears of blood but he smiles as though nothing could make him happier. She sits calmly in his lap gazing lovingly into his eyes. Somehow he healed the wound. How, no one knows. But what is known is this. He was always there, she just never saw him. The wound was to blame for her pain, not his presence. And even though no one in that crowd noticed her, he did. He saw her tears, he saw her pain and suffering…he saw her. How? No one knows.