The White Room

‘Hello,’ he called out, squinting into the blinding white light.  He had the sense that there was someone else with him, someone close by that he instinctively knew he had to find.  Twisting around, he looked for any signs of life. There was not a visible horizon wherever he was. The blinding white of the floor he was sat on merged seamlessly with the walls, or the sky, he couldn’t be sure.  At the very moment he wondered if he were inside or not, he recognised he was somewhere in between. He was trapped in this place until he found who he was looking for, but the problem was, he didn’t know who he was looking for in this strange place.

‘Hello.’ He yelled out into the silence around him.  His own voice echoed around the room and bounced back at him giving the distinct impression whatever and wherever he was, it was vast.  

Tentatively he found his feet.  His fingertips grazed the floor, but he didn’t notice the peculiar texture.  As he paced, his feet sprang slightly with each step, a if running on foam. He  began to worry he would never find who he needed to so he could escape. 

‘Are you here?’ He asked, fearful of the answer. ‘Hello?’ Again, his voice bounced back at him.  Inside his chest the weight of desperately wanting not only to find this person but meet them, pulled so heavily he had to stop running to gain control of himself. 

‘Where are you?’ His sing song voice rang out fruitlessly.  His best bet at finding them was to move, so he ran, not consciously choosing the direction in which he was running but knowing instinctively it was the right way to go.  ‘Hello? Where are you?’

‘Hello?’ A small voice asked back stopping him in his tracks.  He tried to place the voice, it was definitely female, but he had never heard that voice before.  Yet he knew she was the one. She was who he needed to find. 

‘I’m here.’ He shouted upwards as if it would make him more clear. 

‘I can’t see you.’ The voice replied sadly.  He had to pause as the misery in their voice hit him harder than the weight he felt at needing to find them.  His knees buckled beneath him.  

‘I can’t see you too, but I will find you.’ He said, desperately trying to reassure the sad voice.  He picked himself up with unsteady legs and was determined to continue his search.  

‘I’m lost.’ She spoke again, this time though she sounded closer, much closer than before.  Whipping his head around wildly he tried to place the owner’s location. 

‘You sound closer to me now.’ He told her, ‘Keep talking to me, I will find you.’ He told her waiting for her to speak before he chose which direction to move in.

‘Should I stop moving?’ she asked in the same low voice.

‘Yes, I will find you.’ He repeated his feet moving in the direction of her voice.  He had to keep her speaking if he was going to find her.

‘What is your name?’ he asked the first thing that came to his mind as he moved quickly, pausing to make sure he was in the right direction.

‘Fern,’ she said in a sigh as if the sound of her own name made her sad.

‘Fern, I’m Namjoon.’ He told her moving towards her.

‘I don’t know you.’ She told him, a slight note of anxiety in her voice.

‘It’s ok, I don’t know you too, but I need to find you.’ He told her without hesitation.

‘I need to find you too.’ She told him.  She was becoming louder, as if she were on the other side of a door, but still all Namjoon could see for miles was an expanse of blinding white.

‘Are you in a white room?’ He asked, turning around in circles.

‘No,’ she told him sadly.  ‘The room is green, jade green, it has no beginning or end.’

He shook his head fearing he would never find her, she was in a completely different room than he was. 

‘You sound so close though,’ he gasped in frustration.

‘You sound close too, like you’re right next to me.’ She told him.  He could tell she was whispering, or speaking softly, yet he could hear her as clearly as if she had spoken directly in his ear.

He sat down back on the floor, falling onto his back, spread eagled on the floor.  How was he going to find her?

‘I don’t know how to get to you.’ He told her rubbing at his face in defeat. 

‘I think, this is as close as we are going to get,’ she told him.  Although he could not see her face, he pictured someone with a sad smile, trying to be brave when they were terrified.  At least, that's how she sounded. It tore at him to hear her so sad, he wanted to hug her, make it right somehow. Though why he felt so strongly he had no answer.  

‘Namjoon? Are you still there?’ she asked softly.

‘Yeah I’m still here.’ He told her sadly, rolling onto his side, trying to think of a logical way to find her.

‘I . . .  feel like I miss you.’ Her voice sounded frightened, disbelieving, like she wasn’t sure why she had this feeling.  Yet as she said the words, he realised that was what he was feeling too. The weight in his chest ached, he missed her greatly.

‘I feel like I miss you too.’ He told her using the same soft tone.  He felt oddly comforted at her voice, at knowing she was feeling the same.  Yet the anxiety and need to find her pulled within him. 

‘How do you miss someone you haven’t met before?’ she asked full of wonderment.

‘I don’t know, maybe we did meet before?’ he said without conviction.  He knew it was untrue. He did not know any Fern’s who sounded like she did, in fact he did not know anyone called Fern. 

‘I don’t think so, I would remember a name like Namjoon.  I only know of one.’ She told him with half a giggle to her sad voice.

He smiled at her giggle, feeling lighter.  ‘You know someone called Namjoon?’ He asked intrigued.

‘Yeah, kind of . . .  I don’t know him, just of him, he’s very famous.’ She replied.  He was famous, maybe she meant him? For some reason he chose not to comment. 

‘I don’t know any Fern’s,’ he told her honestly.  ‘It’s not a common name where I am from.’ Even though he had travelled the world and met many people he’d never met a Fern.

‘I guess you are from Korea.’ She said, though it didn’t strike him as strange, there was really only one place in the world for a name like his.

‘You would guess right, but where are you from then?’ He asked unable to place her name.

‘I . . .  Don’t remember,’ she stumbled over her answer, obviously trying to remember.  ‘I speak English, I’m from an English-speaking country, but I don’t remember, because…’ She didn’t finish her sentence.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Because I don’t belong there.’ She told him, sounding embarrassed.  It was a very strange thing to say.

‘Are you speaking Korean now?’ He was confused.  He had been speaking Korean the whole time, and she had replied to him, each time, in Korean.

‘No, I am speaking English, like you?’ 

‘I’m not….’ He told her screwing up his face, the lack of any kind of logic in this place was clouding his mind, he wanted to understand and ask more questions but as soon as he had a thought, it would slip away.

‘So, I am speaking English and you are speaking Korean, but we understand each other?  How does that work?’ She sounded as confused as he felt.

‘I don’t know, it must be this place.’ He shook his head, it was the only thing he could think of.

‘I like talking to you though.’ He said, unable to stop himself.

His own grin widened at the sound of her chuckle.

‘Me too.’ She said shyly.  ‘It makes me feel less alone.’

‘Me too.’ He told her with a smile. 

Namjoon woke up from his dream with a start.  Sitting bolt upright, his mind raced over every detail.  He could remember every word, every feeling so clearly, unlike most of the dreams he usually had, when he would wake up and not remember a thing.  His heart was racing, his brow slightly sweaty as if he had been in a nightmare. Yet remembering the dream gave him an oddly sweet and satisfying feeling.  He wanted to be back in the white room, talking to the girl he could not see. 

He grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge before attempting to go back to sleep.  It was only 4am and he did not have to be awake for a few hours yet. He was determined to get as much sleep in as possible and hopefully, fall back into his dream in the white room.  It was almost impossible, he tossed and turned with his mind dancing refusing to shut down. It was well over an hour before his eyes closed and he slipped into slumber.

‘Fern?’ he asked into the empty space.  Nothing but the white abyss surrounded him, blinding him.  On his back, just as before, he stretched out comfortably. 

‘Namjoon?  Where did you go?’ her voice rang out to him.

‘I …’ he had no answer.  He did not remember where he went. ‘I don’t know, have I been gone for a long time?’ he asked, feeling a wave of guilt for leaving her.

‘I’m not sure how long you’ve been gone.  You stopped replying to me, and I’ve just been… waiting.’  She spoke the last word strangely, like she was unsure of what she had been doing.

‘I’m sorry.  How long were you here, before, when you first spoke?’ he asked.

‘As soon as I was here I heard you speaking.’ She told him.  Her voice was very soft, very feminine, but not overly girly or high pitched, just soft, like every word she spoke was precious.  ‘How long were you here before I answered you?’

‘I’m not sure about time here,’ he told her, ‘I was shouting for you for a while, I knew you would be here … but I don’t know how I knew.’ He frowned.  It was hard to remember or figure out why he felt the way he did here.

‘I had the same feeling.  I knew you would be here, and I had to find you.’ She told him.

‘If we find each other do you think we can get out of here?’ He asked her as a question, though he knew the answer as soon as he asked the question.  Now he was talking to her, he enjoyed it, he found he wanted to be in the room with her.

‘I have that feeling, when we find each other, we will leave.’ She told him sadly.

‘How old are you?’ he asked her, wanting to talk more about her than about the room.

‘I’m 32. How old are you?’ she asked him back.

‘I’m 27,’ he replied.

‘You are so young.’ As she spoke he could hear the smile on her face. 

‘I am not that young, you are old.’ He teased with his own grin.

‘Thank you.’ She said thick with sarcasm.  Quite a difference from the sadness he was used to.  He smiled, proud of himself that for a second he had made her forget why she was sad. 

‘I’m joking,’ 

‘I know.’ 

Namjoon moved to lay on his side.  One arm under his head propping him up, in the direction her voice was coming from. 

‘What do you look like?’ He asked curiously, he wanted to be able to picture her as he spoke to her.

‘Hmmm, what can I tell you?’  She paused, ‘I am 150cm, I have light brown eyes, and blonde, wavy, hair.  It’s kind of, shoulder length.’ 

A picture of a woman fitting her description appeared in his mind.  

‘Oh and I have two arms, two legs, that sort of thing,’ she chuckled. 

Namjoon laughed, booming around the empty space. ‘Ok, two arms and two legs are good.’ He replied. ‘I have three arms and one leg.  It makes it really hard to get places.’

‘Ha, ha,’ she taunted, ‘It’s hard to describe yourself.  So what about you?’

‘Well I’m Korean, dark eyes, kind of tall 181cm, broad shoulders I guess.  Um, right now my hair is sort of a weird light brown blonde.’ He tried to be as honest as possible. ‘And you know I have a mouth and a nose and ears and stuff.’ 

She laughed, a sound that he was hoping to have elicited from her. ‘Fair enough Namjoon, nose and ears and all.  Now I can almost picture you instead of just seeing this green colour.’ Her voice had dropped low, almost like she was talking to herself, or else becoming sleepy.

‘Are you sleepy?’ he asked, his voice dropping too. 

‘A little.’ 

‘Don’t go to sleep yet.’ He told her, a touch of pleading in his voice.

‘Why?’ she asked, sounding further away.

‘Because I will miss you when you go.’ 

She did not reply, only silence lingered in his ears.  As if he had predicted it, he missed her, the feeling ran through him so strong, from his toes to the top of his head.  He missed the person he had never met so much his chest threatened to crush the air out of him. Closing his eyes, a tear or two escaped him.  He curled into a ball, trying his best to go to sleep too.