I Sit Alone In A Four-cornered Room Novels & Stories

“Not here… it’s too close to the door.” We were both naked already. He looked confused for half a second before I grabbed his wrist, guiding him across the room. “Over here,” I told him, pointing toward the corner where I usually sit alone, hidden, soundproof from the rest of the world. “If we’re going to do this… no one can hear.” He smirked, letting me pull him along. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?” “Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back, though my voice trembled with heat. “I just don’t want Ava kicking my door again.”

Honestly, why am I even thinking? It has been several hours since the unknown man left me alone in this small room to die of starvation. The space is larger than the cramped one I had in the orphanage, but it offers no solace. The two white, hard doors are the only things in here besides the bed and the couch. One door leads to a toilet while the other is the only exit. The walls are painted in a ghastly crimson hue that assaults the senses. The window in the room is useless; it refuses to open no matter how hard I tried, and there is nothing in the room that could help me break it.

He only realized that he was alone when he gazed at every corner of the room, but there was not a single soul inside the room except for him. He stood up, his legs shaking like that of an old man who sat for an hour or so, he felt his back aching in pain as he heard eerie whispers coming from all around the room. As he continued to glance around, his eyes noticed a stone podium standing alone at the center of the room. He walked closer to it and saw moss building up at its base and slowly climbing up its body, at the top rested a single book which had an incomprehensible title at the front.

It felt grounding, something real to hold onto when everything else felt unsteady. I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with the stale air of the room, air that had grown heavy and lifeless over the past few days. Turning toward the large curtains at the far end of the room, I walked over with careful steps. That small corner, tucked away in quiet isolation, had become more familiar to me than the bed I was meant to recover in. The window was my escape, my reminder that there was still a world outside, a world still spinning even as I lay trapped in my own silence.

Whispered as if it were a sin to say it aloud. Dante. The devil in a suit. My gaze searched the dimly lit room, even though my legs trembled too much to stand. It was a large space, far too wide. The windows were covered by thick burgundy curtains. There was an enormous bed in one corner, made as if no one dared to lie on it. And I was on the floor. Like an animal. I took a deep breath, trying to contain the knot forming in my throat. But it was useless.

I moved more carefully, more stealthily. James Bond… Or rather, Jasmine Bond since I was female. I stopped by his door. The space between the frames was left ajar. I pushed it forward, poking my head first before the rest of my body followed. Inside, the Four’s room was dark, clouded by a tight unfamiliar air. I flicked the switch by the door and the room received light. When the place brightened and my eyes adjusted to the light, I stepped in. As my eyes adjusted, so did my body, to the feeling of being in Four's room– alone.

And today, in the middle of the day, we chose to let it win. The sun spilled through the glass walls of the room, bathing everything in a bright, unforgiving light. The room itself was strange—minimal, stripped bare, as though created for one purpose only. A single chair sat in the center, a table beside it, nothing else. No shadows to hide in, no curtains to shield us. I wore nothing but a thin cover. My fingers clutched the edge of the fabric, knowing it wouldn’t hide me for long. “On your knees.”

I could handle Noise, chaos is my friend, it gave me something to push against, but silence in a closed unfamiliar room with no indication of what was happening on the other side of the door did something to me that I had never found a clean way to manage. I had always been like this for a while even though I've never boldly acknowledged it. I've always needed either sound or people or both, I hated the specific quality of alone that came with four walls and no exits and nothing to listen to except my own thoughts which were not good company right now. I tried the window, maybe I could sneak out but it was sealed. I checked the bathroom twice, then the door hinges, the ceiling, the corners,

I couldn't place any lock because there was none. ~~~~ I was sitting alone, on the bed, my hands placed beside me as loneliness drowned me as I scanned around the room. Everything was placed in different positions in accordance with how a two bedroom apartment should be arranged, but it was just a single room in different sections, with its bedroom demarcated with a very thin board from the other section.

Zayne's POV Zayne sat hunched in the far corner of the large, barren room, his back pressed against the cold cement wall. The dim light overhead flickered faintly, casting erratic shadows on the unadorned gray walls. The air smelled faintly of damp concrete and old sweat. The only furniture in the room—a small, round table and two wooden chairs—sat near the door, like a cruel joke of hospitality.