Work Text:
THE IVORY ROOM
A SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY JULIA BERNICE HODGMAN
Dedicated to my Father
The Ivory Room by Julia B.H.
Chapter 1: The Day Of Reckoning
My mind is a blank.
A fresh canvas ripe for those around me to corrupt.
Although, I don’t think I’d ever seen another of my kind.
I’d lived in an ivory room all my life. No escape.
I stopped blankly staring at a wall to realize it was time for me to consume.
A small rusted metallic arm lowered from a moving tile, bearing a tray of goods.
I took an unmarked packet of rations, and a small tan canister labeled ‘EMERGENCY RATION, DISTILLED WATER’.
I popped the top and took a hefty swig. Warm, as always.
I opened the packet of rations, inside was a small bag of granola, and a packet of chips.
I gestured for the arm to go back into the ceiling, mouthing a small ‘Thank you’ to it.
I had begun to eat when the arm came back through the ceiling.
“That’s odd…” I whispered to myself, slowly rubbing my eyes to see if I was imagining things.
It still stayed there. I look to see what was on the tray, moving toward the steel limb with slight concern.
Sat upon the tray was... a book...? I snatched it up and flipped through it.
It seemed to be, some sort of instructions, I believe. I had just been skimming through, when something caught my eye.
A scribble from, who I assume was the last owner of this booklet.
“This ivory room… this fucking ivory room… I need whoever is reading this to just listen to me. I know they give the same copies of one book to the next (Illegible) of the room. Get out. Whatever way you can. Trust me.”
Odd.
Very, very, odd.
I closed the book carefully, reading the cover as best as I could. It read ‘John J. Hugh’s Guidebook for the Insane’.
I’m not insane.
Or I wasn’t the last time I checked… how long ago was that, again? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember a lot of things. Like, my name, or how old I was. All I could remember was The Ivory Room.
Oh, what a day it had been. Work was usually a pain in the ass, but not this bad. Hey, at least the day is over. I had been assigned a new sector in the plant I was completely stupid at. I’m so fired. I was driving home from work when I saw an… odd billboard.
“Want escape? Come to the ivory room.” I don’t know what it meant. But every day… I became more and more tempted to find out. Until one day, I decided to do it. I would go to that room. I want escape. I went to the address, and I was greeted by a big building, with a few guards outside of it. “I’ll need your name, sir.” One of the guards said. “Ah, yes. My name is-- “
I jolted awake. What the hell was that-?
I… feel like that… meant something.
A low rumble came from my stomach, I need to eat.
The metallic arm came down on que, but I was still a bit on edge by it because of that ‘dream’. Upon the tray was a packet, and a tan canister. As always.
I took the food and bolted, going to the edge of the room, before gesturing for the arm to go back into the ceiling, it does so shortly after.
Maybe I am insane.
Chapter 2: A Day in the Life
I can’t sleep. I want to get out of this ivory room. I want to go home. If I even have one… I can’t remember if I did. I want to remember. I don’t know what I’m doing.
“—George. George Reynolds is my name.” I say to the guard.
“What’s your business here?” “I saw an ad for the ‘Ivory room...?” “Ah yes. Right this way, Mr. Reynolds.” They then lead me through a long winding hallway, signs littered about the ceilings directing you where and when to go to certain places. It was a bit overwhelming, but I can handle it. I’m an adult. Then we got to a doorway with a sign over the top of it reading ‘The Ivory Room’. I was escorted inside and left alone in this white room. Then I heard a ‘click!’ from the door. I was trapped. “WHAT IS THIS?! LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKING PEOPLE!!”
Oh my god. I remember my name, I remember where I am, I remember. I’m trapped. I need to get out.
I look about the room, but I notice something… “There was a door from what I remembered… Right?” I mutter quietly to the air. There was an escape. But now there isn’t. Fuck. FUCK.
But wait… the panel with the arm… that could work! This could be it! I could go home!
So, I waited.
and waited.
and waited.
The panel moved and I jolted, running toward it, and jumping on to the tray, just barely fitting. It lifted me into the ceiling, and I was out. Finally.
I looked about, noticing the pipes winding endlessly around me, lit up by a single flickering lightbulb, before my eyes came to a metal walkway. Bingo.
I carefully treaded toward it, hopping on it and walking to wherever it would lead me.
After what felt like an eon of walking, I reached a dead end, with a ladder attached leading downwards.
I cautiously climbed down it, finding myself in an extremely dark, yet large room. “Hello? Is anyone nearby!” I yelled, greeted by… nothing.
Just like always.
It felt endless.
I notice a crack of light nearby and I run to it, finding a door leading outside. The guards notice me.
My mind is blank.
Thank you for reading this short story I call a “book”. Its probably easy to tell this was inspired by a lot of other books, but here are my inspirations.
1984 – George Orwell (The main character was named after the author, actually!)
Flowers for Algernon – Daniel Keyes
Project: Hail Mary – Andy Weir
Here’s a bit of additional context, but the rest of the story is up for interpretation.
No, the ivory room is not a construct in George’s mind. It is real.
Yes, this is a government operation disguised as an “escape”.
That’s all! Thank you again for reading this.