Echos in the theraphy room

The therapy room was quiet, but not completely empty. Shadows stretched across the walls, flickering in the dim light, carrying whispers that seemed to echo his own thoughts. He could hear his breath, shallow and uneven, as if the room itself was aware of his presence. “You’re not alone here…” The faint voice from the corner sent a shiver down his spine. He opened the therapist’s notebook, hoping to write, but every word seemed to twist itself, returning in a tone that wasn’t his own. Memories he had long ignored stirred, each one a shadow creeping across the walls. Sitting there, he realized the room had a life of its own—one that held fragments of fears, regrets, and secrets that were not entirely his. When he finally stood up, the whispers faded, but the feeling remained: the therapy room remembered everything he tried to forget.