Thelastroom Stories

There are 5 rooms in my head. I walked through all of them. Intake - where the noise started Rewind - where the memories don't leave Therapy - where I argued with myself The Memory Room - where I chose to stay The Last Room - where the light finally hit This is not a diagnosis. This is a collection of poems and prose about overthinking, healing, and the parts of you that feel haunted but beautiful. It's dark. It's honest. It's ink on cracked walls. It's the moment you stop running from your mind and decide to live in it. For anyone who's ever felt like their thoughts were too loud to be home.

បន្ទប់មរណះ The last room...

Kata had only one rule when she moved into the old Budapest apartment: "Don't use the last room," the landlord warned. "You have no business there." The room was small, windowless, and cold. The inside of the door bore scratches, like a child had tried to claw their way out. A week later, at 3:00 AM, she heard knocking from inside the room. Tuk-tuk. Tuk-tuk. Then a whisper: "Let me in..." When she got closer, the doorknob twitched-from the inside. Another voice followed. Deeper. Broken: "Not for you... never for you..." Terrified, Kata fled. But each night, it returned. And then, she found a key hidden in the kitchen. It fit only one door. She opened it. Inside: a rusted crib, an old teddy bear, and walls covered in childlike drawings of a headless man. In the corner stood a pale boy. Behind him, the thing-tall, thin, and wrong. The boy whispered: "Please... close the door before he turns around." The teddy bear dropped. And said, in a child's voice: "Now you're part of it too." The light died. The door slammed. Later, she woke up in the same room, but different. The doorknob was gone. The air was thick. The drawings now showed her. Then came the knocking again-from the wall. She peeled it back and saw... herself. Another version. Dirty. Broken. Smiling. "Finally. I can leave." It pulled her in. The wall closed. Now, a new "Kata" lives in the apartment. At 3:00 AM, the knocking starts again. "Let me in..." ⸻ The End (but the room is still waiting)