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I’m in this room alone I can tell.  I can’t feel anyone bearing down on my mind.  I feel no one else’s body heat.  It’s so dark I can’t even see my own eyelids.  Yet I feel like I know everything about this room.  I know every corner, every crack.  I am the sole ruler and habitant of this space.  There are three doors, thick steel.  Outside sit soldiers, guarding my space.  I’m not sure whether they are keeping things out, or in.  But anyways they are doing their job.  Sometimes they wonder what I am, sitting in here all alone.  And they ask me questions, and try to get me to squeeze out of the food slot.  They tempt me with candy or presents, but I never give in.  No matter how much they harass me, I stay put, knowing that I am safe in here.  



I am alone.  



Only one time did I give in, but not to candy or presents or promises.  I gave in to the sweetest voice I had ever heard.   A woman, a young woman, was present outside a door.  She talked to me for a few minutes and then left.  The next day she was back.  I liked her.  But I warned myself to stay cautious.  I wondered if she was someone there to help me.  I listened and answered her questions, day after day.  And I became accustomed to hearing her voice softly speaking to me.  One day I waited… and nothing.  The next day, and the next, no woman.  On the fourth day she came.  She told me she didn’t have much time left to talk.  I asked her why and she told me she was dying.  I asked her why again.  She told me she was very sick.  I guessed that made sense.  She asked if I would come outside my room for a little bit so we could talk.  I asked why.  She said it would be easier to communicate and she could help me better.  I said I would think about it.  She said she would come back in two days, and she would be expecting to see me face to face.  In two days she was back.  And she helped me through the food slot, which was a tight fit.  I made it through, stood up to look her in the eyes, and a baseball bat shattered my teeth.  I grunted and fell to the side, mouth throbbing and a pool of blood forming around my cheek.  I looked up to see a soldier with a black electrical box over his mouth, with a speaker.  It was him the whole time.  An altered voice.  The bat came down again, right near my eye, stained red.  



I am hurt.  



I wake up in total darkness, I can only hope this is my room.  My sweet loneliness that only I can live and breathe in.  My head is splitting apart.  The floor is cool and smooth, it is my room.  Relieved, I pass out.  I wake up three more times, each time not wanting to be alive, wanting the hurt to end.  I am awake for good and I sit up.  I ask myself whether I have learned my lesson.  



I am lost.



One too many times I have left this room.  It is my curse to be trapped inside, and the only way I can survive.  I can’t take the outside, the light, the bats, the hurt.  So I stay in my room, where I am sole ruler, and I live the only way I know how.