I knocked on the glass. Once, twice, three times. Although the glass was pretty thick, I could hear the muffled noise of the gentle knocks echo throughout the room. It was not out of the blue that I decided to disturb the quiet inside it; it was because of the human inside the glass room. I’m not the type to meddle with other people’s business or to interact with them excessively, but this particular person in this particular room intrigued me. And so, here I was, stuck dumbfounded in front of this glass structure, trying to get the attention of the person inside.

They were not dead, that was for sure. Judging from the slight rise and fall of their chest, I assumed they were probably in a very deep slumber. But I really could not see why they were so immersed in this sleep. I did not think there was very much to exhaust yourself from in that glass room. Lost in thought, I placed my palm against the glass and closed my eyes. Who is this person? What are they doing inside that glass room? Was it their choice to be locked inside? Or was it for protection? Are they friendly? The thoughts consumed me and I suddenly felt very weak, but I shook the thoughts from my head and quickly opened my eyes.

Instead of my expected reflection in the glass wall staring back, it was that person who was standing there. They had placed their own palm on the glass and was staring right back at me. The stare was more of a curious stare, rather than a displeased one. I noticed that it was a boy. You could tell from the way his jaw line was shaped. His hair fell in front of his pale face in thick layers and covered most of it, but I could see one green colored eye peering out and examining me closely.

Suddenly, I felt really exposed and shy. Was I being the specimen? Was he studying me? Or since he was the one inside the glass room, was I studying him? I looked back at the boy inside the room; his stare was steady and had a somewhat calm feeling to it. I couldn’t help but think that he was happy to have me there, but I wasn’t too sure. I decided that staring would not help and so I tapped lightly on the glass to see if I got a response. I used my fingers to tap three times on the glass, and after letting out a smile, the boy tapped back, three times.

I continued tapping back, but this time I only did it twice. And surely enough, the boy replied with two gentle taps. We continued our little game, tapping back and forth and judging by the grin he had on his face, he was enjoying it. I suddenly felt my heart drop … what if he was really alone for a very long time? Was I his first interaction? Did he ever have friends before? With every tap, the boy’s mysterious story drew me in closer. While he was distracted, I quickly examined the interior of the room. From what I could see, it had no exit.


Call it stupidity if you wish, but I felt a moral obligation to free the boy from his confines.

The room wasn’t cluttered at all from the inside, on the contrary, quite clean. Actually … there was really nothing in it. The emptiness was overpowering, ironically. I couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of why and how he was trapped inside. Moreover, how he managed to survive alone, enshrouded in nothingness.

I got up to take a walk and inspect the perimeter of the glass room, the boy inside jolted up in surprise and followed me. He had a look of concern on his face, as if he thought I was going to leave him. I did not know how to reassure him that I was simply trying to find a way for him to exit. So I decided to place a hand on the glass and slide it along while I was walking. The boy followed the hand and I thought that this was an effective way of demonstrating that I wasn’t intending to abandon him.

After doing a full inspection, my hypothesis had been confirmed … there literally was no door or window that he could use to escape. This left me with no choice but to try and break the glass. I quickly nodded at him and jogged into the thick greenery of the forest. Frantically I searched for something hard enough to crack the glass. I stumbled upon an average sized bolder and heaved it back to the glass room. The boy was really confused, to say the least.

I motioned for him to step back from the glass. I waved my arms up and down, did gestures and even faked throwing the boulder at the glass so that he would budge. He simply refused to move. I was probably more confused than he was. I was trying to save him from this glass cage and he refused to let me even try. Why did he not want to leave? Was he scared of me? In frustration I slammed my fist on the glass and let out a sigh. The boy looked like he wanted to tell me something and so I pressed my ear against the glass. I heard a muffled whisper but I couldn’t make out his words clearly.
I instructed him promptly, “Louder! Say it louder!” The boy shook his head and hung it in disappointment. Then he came really close to the glass and let out a deep breath, exhaling on the glass. He did this quite a few times until a reasonable portion of the glass had become foggy. He then placed a finger on the glass and started to write something quickly … before all the fog had condensed.

In mere seconds, the words “I don’t want to leave” appeared on the glass.

I was taken aback. What did he mean he didn’t want to leave? Was he insane? Did he ever dream of what’s outside of his cage? What the hell was he even intending to do living there for the rest of how ever long he lived? Many questions came flooding to mind in a wave of angry confusion. But I kept it together and simply nodded. Then I also did the same, exhaled a couple of times and wrote something in response. It was a short word, yet it encased a lot of meaning.


Three letters appeared on the glass … “Why” and then, I saw the color drain from the boy’s face.