Room 401

ROOM 410

A Play in Four Scenes

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SCENE ONE

Sunday — Morning — Winter

University Courtyard, Outside the Main Entrance

Cold winter air. Students enter the university through the main entrance. The sounds of footsteps, movement, and fragments of conversation fill the courtyard.

RAYAN and his MOTHER enter. His mother is carrying Rayan's bag. Rayan keeps looking around—at the other students, at the entrance, anywhere but at her.

RAYAN:

Mom... I'm not a kid anymore. Why did you come all the way here?

MOTHER:

Just go inside, son.

RAYAN:

No, seriously. Why did you come?

MOTHER:

Because I wanted to. Is that a crime?

RAYAN:

Mom, at least walk a little farther away from me.

MOTHER:

Farther away?

RAYAN:

Yeah.

MOTHER:

Why?

RAYAN:

This is a university. Nobody comes here with their mom.

His mother looks around. A few students pass by. No one is looking at them.

MOTHER:

Okay. I came. So what?

RAYAN:

Everyone's looking.

MOTHER:

Who's looking?

RAYAN:

I don't know... but they are.

MOTHER:

You're so picky.

Rayan sighs.

MOTHER:

I wish you cared as much about doing the right thing as you do about what people think.

RAYAN:

Here we go again.

MOTHER:

I started it?

RAYAN:

Yeah, Mom. You've been telling me what to do since this morning.

MOTHER:

Because if I don't tell you, you won't do anything yourself.

RAYAN:

I told you from the beginning. I'm not interested in English literature.

MOTHER:

Oh, really? Great!

She smiles sarcastically.

MOTHER:

My son isn't interested in literature! You should've told me sooner.

RAYAN:

Are you making fun of me?

MOTHER:

No, not at all...

A beat.

MOTHER:

Of course I am.

RAYAN:

You're hilarious.

MOTHER:

You studied science in high school. For three years, I enrolled you in every institute you could think of.

RAYAN:

Mom...

MOTHER:

No. Let me finish. Three years! Every time you said you needed a class, we paid for it. Every time you said you needed a test-prep course, you went. Every time you said you needed a certain book, we bought it.

RAYAN:

I never said—

MOTHER:

And you didn't get accepted anywhere.

Rayan falls silent.

MOTHER:

In the end, we brought you here because this university would accept you as a tuition-paying student.

RAYAN:

Here we go again...

MOTHER:

What? I'm telling you the truth.

RAYAN:

I bet you're going to say my cousin got into medical school.

MOTHER:

Did I mention your cousin?

RAYAN’:

You don't have to. I know what you're going to say.

MOTHER:

You didn't get into medical school. Fine.

RAYAN:

So?

MOTHER:

At least this lousy university wouldn't even let you enroll in law without an entrance exam because your grades were too low.

RAYAN’:

I don't want law.

MOTHER:

Then what do you want?

RAYAN:

I told you. I don't want any of this.

MOTHER:

Then what do you want?

Rayan pauses.

RAYAN:

Art.

His mother looks at him in surprise.

MOTHER:

Art?

RAYAN:

Yeah. Art.

MOTHER:

Here we go again.

RAYAN:

Why is everything I like a joke to you?

MOTHER:

I never said it was a joke.

RAYAN:

Then why are you looking at me like that?

MOTHER:

Because I'm thinking about your future.

RAYAN:

I'm thinking about my future too.

Rayan takes out his phone.

RAYAN:

Look. I have tons of great drawings on my phone.

MOTHER:

Rayan, this isn't the time.

RAYAN:

A guy from Turkey even called me.

MOTHER:

So?

RAYAN:

He said he wanted to buy one of my paintings.

MOTHER:

For how much?

RAYAN:

Fifty dollars.

His mother remains silent for a few moments.

MOTHER:

Fifty dollars?

RAYAN:

Yeah.

MOTHER:

Rayan, after I've spent enough money on your entrance exams and your English literature enrollment to buy several houses, you're telling me about fifty dollars?

RAYAN’:

I have to start somewhere.

MOTHER:

With fifty dollars?

RAYAN:

Yeah. With fifty dollars.

MOTHER:

Do you even know how expensive life is?

RAYAN:

I know.

MOTHER:

You don't.

RAYAN:

You never let me find out.

His mother falls silent for a moment.

MOTHER:

I just want you to have a good future.

RAYAN’:

But I don't want this future.

MOTHER:

Then what do you want?

RAYAN’:

I want to choose for myself. Like that bird in the sky. It goes wherever it wants.

MOTHER:

You still don't know what you want.

RAYAN:

I know what I don't want.

MOTHER:

What?

RAYAN:

This.

He points toward the university building.

RAYAN:

This major. These classes. This university. I don't want any of it.

MOTHER :

Then why did you come?

Rayan doesn't answer.

MOTHER:

Why did you come, Rayan?

RAYAN’:

Because you wanted me to.

MOTHER:

I wanted it for you.

RAYAN’:

But I didn't want it.

A beat.

RAYAN:

Mom, I hate English literature. I hate the professors. I hate the whole class. Do you understand?

His mother says nothing.

RAYAN:

I hate it.

MOTHER:

So what do you want me to do?

RAYAN:

Nothing.

MOTHER:

Then what do you want from me?

RAYAN:

Just listen to me. Just once.

His mother looks at him.

Several seconds of silence.

MOTHER:

Go inside.

RAYAN:

Mom...

MOTHER:

I said go inside.

RAYAN:

I really don't want this major.

MOTHER:

Shut up and go inside. I'm done with you.

Rayan stares at his mother for a few moments.

Then he walks toward the university building.

After a few steps, he turns around.

His mother is still standing there.

Rayan says nothing.

Then he enters the building.

His mother looks at the entrance.

Then she walks over to one of the benches and sits down.

She takes out his phone.

A few moments later, she looks toward the entrance again.

MOTHER:

(quietly, to herself)

It'll work out eventually...

A beat.

MOTHER:

He's just a kid... He doesn't understand.

The lights fade.

END OF SCENE ONE

---

SCENE TWO

Room 410 — Morning

The sound of the classroom door opening and closing. Several students are talking.

Rayan enters the classroom and puts his bag on a chair.

RAYAN’:

Hey.

ARMAN:

Well, well! Look who it is! Rayan!

RAYAN:

I really don't feel like talking. Move over.

ARMAN:

Heh... How does it feel knowing we're in the same class again this semester?

Rayan doesn't answer.

ARMAN:

Forget that. I wanted to see that painting you were working on.

RAYAN:

Which one?

ARMAN:

The painter... Van Gogh. What was that painting called? The one with the screaming guy?

RAYAN:

The Scream isn't by Van Gogh.

ARMAN:

Whatever. The one you were drawing in class yesterday.

RAYAN:

It's in my book.

ARMAN:

I saw the photo you took. Let me see it.

RAYAN:

My phone isn't here right now.

Arman looks at him, laughing.

ARMAN:

Ohhh! Did your mom take your phone again, Mr. Rayan?

Rayan lowers his head.

RAYAN:

Enough.

SARA:

Seriously? Can a mother really take away a twenty-one-year-old university student's phone?

ARMAN:

Sara, see? He's your friend, after all.

SARA:

No. Rayan is not my boyfriend.

A brief pause.

SARA:

I'd rather ride around in a Mercedes than walk around with Rayan.

Arman laughs.

Rayan gives a brief smile.

RAYAN:

But Sara, I love you.

Sara says nothing.

RAYAN:

Arman doesn't love you. He has several other girlfriends. You know that.

ARMAN:

Oh, come on. Why am I in the middle of this?

SARA:

Shut up, Rayan.

Then, to Arman:

SARA:

Arman, come sit next to me. Third row.

She points to the chair beside her.

SARA:

Rayan is sitting by the window. It's cold there. Come sit here. You'll catch a cold.

ARMAN:

Okay, honey.

Arman moves to the seat beside Sara.

Rayan is left alone by the window.

He stares outside for a few moments.

The sound of the classroom gradually fades into the background.

RAYAN:

I wish I had listened to my mom...

A beat.

RAYAN:

I wish I'd gotten into medical school.

He continues looking outside.

RAYAN:

Or at least studied harder.

A beat.

RAYAN:

At least I could've become a lawyer.

The sound of the students continues faintly in the background.

Rayan sees a bird in the sky.

RAYAN:

Or at least... I wish I were that bird.

A beat.

RAYAN:

I wish I could just fly like that.

The classroom door opens.

The PROFESSOR enters.

PROFESSOR:

Good morning, everyone.

The chatter dies down.

PROFESSOR:

I'm your professor for this course, and as you know, the first book we're going to study is Shakespearean literature.

Several students open their notebooks.

PROFESSOR:

You're probably familiar with works like Hamlet, Macbeth, and The Merchant of Venice.

The professor places the book on the desk.

PROFESSOR:

We'll be reading more of these works. For each one, you'll prepare a summary in English and present it to the class.

The professor notices Rayan.

PROFESSOR:

The young man sitting by the window...

A pause.

PROFESSOR:

What's his name?

ARMIN:

Rayan, sir.

PROFESSOR:

Mr. Rayan?

Rayan doesn't react.

PROFESSOR:

Mr. Rayan, are you paying attention?

A beat.

PROFESSOR:

I'm talking to you.

Rayan slowly turns around.

RAYAN:

Yes, sir.

PROFESSOR:

Then please pay attention to the class.

Rayan turns back toward the window.

RAYAN:

I wish I were a bird...

The professor pauses.

RAYAN:

I wish I were a king like Macbeth.

The classroom falls quiet.

RAYAN:

I'd give orders.

A beat.

RAYAN:

I wish I were Hamlet... the prince. I'd be the king's son.

His eyes fall on the professor's book.

RAYAN:

Or I wish I were the Merchant of Venice...

A beat.

RAYAN:

Someone who always had a choice.

The professor looks at him with frustration.

RAYAN:

But I'm a failure.

Silence fills the classroom.

RAYAN:

My lover didn't stay with me...

He looks at Sara.

RAYAN:

My mother was never proud of me.

A beat.

RAYAN:

I couldn't even become a painter.

Sara looks at him in surprise.

PROFESSOR:

Mr. Rayan, this is a class.

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

If you want to disrupt the class, please leave.

Rayan slowly stands up.

The classroom falls completely silent.

RAYAN:

I'm sorry, Professor...

A beat.

RAYAN:

For not being a good student.

He looks at Sara.

RAYAN:

I'm sorry, Sara...

A beat.

RAYAN:

For not being a good lover.

He looks toward the window.

RAYAN:

I'm sorry, Mom...

A long pause.

RAYAN:

For not being a good son.

Silence.

Rayan takes a deep breath.

RAYAN:

I'm sorry... to myself.

A beat.

RAYAN:

For not becoming a famous painter like Van Gogh.

The sound of wind comes from outside.

Rayan looks toward the window.

RAYAN:

But...

A beat.

RAYAN:

I can be a bird.

A beat.

RAYAN:

Free and unrestrained.

Suddenly, a tremendous sound comes from outside.

All the students jump.

The professor instinctively turns toward the window.

Sara freezes.

Arman stands up.

ARMAN:

What happened?!

The lights go out.

BLACKOUT.

END OF SCENE TWO

---

SCENE THREE

University Grounds — A Few Minutes Later

A commotion has spread across the university courtyard.

Several students stand at a distance from the scene. Some watch anxiously. Others hold their phones.

The body has been covered. A UNIVERSITY OFFICIAL stands nearby, speaking quietly into a phone.

ELINA stands apart from the others, arms wrapped around herself. She is a psychology student. She was crossing the courtyard when it happened. She saw everything.

ARMAN and SARA are nearby. The PROFESSOR arrives, slightly out of breath. He stops when he sees the covered body.

He doesn't move closer.

PROFESSOR :

(quietly)

Was it...?

ARMAN:

(without looking at him)

Yes.

A long pause. The professor closes his eyes for a moment.

PROFESSOR:

Did anyone call his family?

OFFICIAL :

(lowering his phone)

We're trying. No answer yet.

PROFESSOR :

Keep trying.

The official nods and steps away.

Silence. The wind moves through the courtyard.

SARA:

(suddenly, to no one)

I was going to take a picture.

Everyone looks at her.

SARA:

(voice cracking)

I had my phone out. I was going to post it. I don't know why.

ARMAN:

Sara—

SARA:

No. Don't.

A beat.

SARA:

He sat by the window because of me. I told him to. I said he'd catch a cold.

ARMAN:

That's not—

SARA:

Then what is it, Arman? Tell me what it is.

Arman doesn't answer.

ELINA turns away from them. She looks toward the bench where Rayan's mother had been sitting. It's empty now.

ELINA:

Where is she?

ARMAN:

Who?

ELINA:

His mother. She was here. I saw her.

The professor looks toward the bench.

PROFESSOR:

She was here?

ELINA:

She was sitting there. Before. When we came out.

A pause.

ELINA:

She must have seen.

No one speaks.

The OFFICIAL returns, phone still in hand.

OFFICIAL:

Still no answer.

PROFESSOR:

Try again.

OFFICIAL :

Doctor, I've called four times.

PROFESSOR :

(sharply)

Then call a fifth time. She needs to know.

The official hesitates, then dials again.

The phone rings. Once. Twice.

From somewhere nearby, a phone rings.

Everyone freezes.

The ringtone is faint but unmistakable. It's coming from the direction of the bench.

Elina takes a step toward it.

ELINA:

Wait...

She stops.

On the ground, a few meters from the bench, lies a woman's handbag. A phone screen glows inside it.

The official lowers his phone. The ringing stops.

OFFICIAL:

(barely audible)

Oh God.

Elina walks slowly toward the handbag. She doesn't touch it. She just looks.

Then she turns.

A few meters farther, behind a low hedge, RAYAN'S MOTHER is sitting on the ground. Her back against the wall. Her eyes open but seeing nothing. She isn't crying. She isn't moving.

She is holding something in her hands. A piece of paper. A drawing.

Elina stops.

ELINA:

(quietly)

Ma'am...?

The mother doesn't respond.

The professor approaches slowly. He sees the drawing in her hands.

PROFESSOR :

(softly)

Mrs...?

The mother looks up. Her face is empty.

MOTHER:

He said he wanted to be a bird.

A beat.

MOTHER:

I told him to go inside.

She looks down at the drawing.

MOTHER:

I told him to shut up.

Silence.

The professor kneels beside her. He doesn't touch her. He just stays there.

Arman turns away. He walks a few steps, then stops. He doesn't know where to go.

Sara is still holding her phone. She looks at it, then slowly puts it in her pocket.

The OFFICIAL stands frozen, phone still in his hand.

Elina looks at the mother. Then at the professor. Then at the empty bench.

ELINA:

(to herself)

He was just... here.

A beat.

ELINA:

This morning. He was just here.

The mother speaks again. Quietly. To no one.

MOTHER:

I bought him that phone.

A beat.

MOTHER:

He wanted to show me his drawings. I didn't look.

She folds the paper carefully. Then unfolds it. Then folds it again.

MOTHER:

I didn't look.

The professor finally speaks.

PROFESSOR:

(gently)

Mrs... we should get you inside.

The mother doesn't respond.

PROFESSOR :

Can you stand?

She looks at him. For a moment, something flickers in her eyes. Then it's gone.

MOTHER:

He hated English literature.

A beat.

MOTHER:

I knew that. I knew.

She looks toward the building.

MOTHER:

I just didn't want to hear it.

The lights begin to fade. But before they go out completely, the mother's voice is heard one last time.

MOTHER:

(whisper)

He was my son.

A beat.

MOTHER:

What else was I supposed to do?

BLACKOUT.

END OF SCENE THREE

---

SCENE FOUR

Room 410 — The Next Day — Morning

Psychology Class

The same room. The same windows. The same chairs.

But everything is different.

The psychology classroom is almost full. The atmosphere is heavy. Several students speak quietly to one another.

The chair by the window—Rayan's chair—is empty.

No one sits there. No one even looks at it directly.

ELINA sits in the second row. She was not in Rayan's class. She only saw what happened in the courtyard yesterday. But she cannot forget.

The window is closed. Someone has placed a small piece of tape over a crack in the glass. It looks recent.

The classroom door opens.

The PSYCHOLOGY PROFESSOR enters.

He puts his bag on the desk.

A few moments of silence.

PROFESSOR :

Before we start...

He looks around the room. His eyes stop at the empty chair by the window.

PROFESSOR :

Does anyone want to say anything?

Silence.

PROFESSOR :

About yesterday.

No one speaks. A few students look down.

PROFESSOR:

Okay.

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

Then let me ask you something.

He walks to the board.

PROFESSOR:

Why do you think someone reaches a point where life becomes unbearable?

A student shrugs.

STUDENT:

I don't know.

PROFESSOR :

That's an honest answer.

He writes on the board:

ONE CAUSE = ?

PROFESSOR:

When something like this happens, we want one answer. One person to blame.

PROFESSOR:

"His mother pushed him too hard."

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

"His classmate humiliated him."

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

"The university didn't care."

He puts the marker down.

PROFESSOR:

But life is rarely that simple. Is it?

Elina looks up.

ELINA:

So what is it then?

PROFESSOR :

Usually? A combination.

He writes on the board:

HOPELESSNESS

PROFESSOR :

Hopelessness. Not just sadness.

A student frowns.

STUDENT:

What's the difference?

PROFESSOR:

Sadness is... a feeling. You can be sad and still think tomorrow might be better.

He writes:

FUTURE = CLOSED

PROFESSOR :

Hopelessness is when the future closes. When you can't see a way out.

PROFESSOR :

"Nothing will change."

PROFESSOR:

"Whatever I do, it won't matter."

Another student speaks.

STUDENT:

But there is a way out. Most of the time.

PROFESSOR:

Yes. But in that moment, the person can't see it.

He writes on the board:

PERCEIVED BURDENSOMENESS

PROFESSOR :

And sometimes... a person starts to believe they're a burden.

PROFESSOR:

"I'm a problem for my family."

PROFESSOR:

"Everyone would be better off without me."

STUDENT:

But that's not true.

PROFESSOR :

Maybe not. But it feels true.

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

The key word is "perceived."

He writes:

THWARTED BELONGINGNESS

PROFESSOR :

And then there's this. Loneliness. Rejection. Feeling like you don't belong anywhere.

STUDENT:

That's from Thomas Joiner, right?

PROFESSOR:

Yes. But remember—

He taps the board.

PROFESSOR :

No theory can explain a person in a few words.

He looks at the empty chair by the window.

PROFESSOR:

So. What do we actually know about Rayan?

STUDENT:

He hated his major.

ANOTHER STUDENT:

He fought with his mother.

STUDENT:

A girl in his class embarrassed him.

PROFESSOR:

Those are things we saw. Facts.

He writes:

FACTS ≠ INTERPRETATION

PROFESSOR:

But if we say "He was depressed"—

PROFESSOR :

That's an interpretation.

PROFESSOR :

If we say "His mother caused it"—

PROFESSOR:

That's a conclusion.

PROFESSOR :

We don't have enough information.

Elina speaks again. Quietly.

ELINA:

Then how would we ever know?

PROFESSOR:

Through assessment.

He writes on the board:

ASSESSMENT

PROFESSOR :

We'd need to look at everything. Family. Relationships. Mental state. Stressors. Belonging. Hopelessness.

A beat.

PROFESSOR:

And if we were worried? We'd ask directly.

STUDENT:

Directly?

PROFESSOR:

"Have you had thoughts of suicide?"

The room goes silent.

PROFESSOR:

Asking doesn't cause it. Not asking might miss it.

He walks slowly around the classroom.

PROFESSOR :

And one more thing.

PROFESSOR :PROFESSOR :

After something like this... it doesn't end.

PROFESSOR:

Friends. Family. Professors. Classmates. Everyone is affected.

PROFESSOR :

Don't share images. Don't share details.

PROFESSOR :

Don't make it look like a solution. Or something heroic.

Silence.

Elina looks at the empty chair by the window.

ELINA:

Professor...

PROFESSOR:

Yes?

ELINA:

I think... we missed a lot.

The professor looks at her.

PROFESSOR:

Maybe.

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

But we don't know what would have changed anything.

He turns back to the board.

PROFESSOR :

What we can ask is this.

A pause.

PROFESSOR :

Where were the chances? To notice. To help. To intervene.

He puts the marker down.

He looks at the empty chair for a long moment.

Then he writes on the board:

WHO WAS RAYAN BEFORE ROOM 410?

The classroom is completely silent.

Elina stares at the words.

PROFESSOR :

If we want to understand someone... we can't just look at their last day.

A beat.

PROFESSOR :

We have to see who they were before.

The lights slowly fade.

The empty chair by the window. The closed window. The tape on the glass.

And on the board, the sentence remains:

"WHO WAS RAYAN BEFORE ROOM 410?"

BLACKOUT.

END OF SCENE FOUR

END OF PLAY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elaheh Shiralizadeh is a writer and student with an academic background in theatre, psychology, and computer science. She studied theatre for three years, developing a strong interest in storytelling, character development, and human behavior. She is currently pursuing her studies in Psychology while also studying Computer Science.

Her work explores human behavior, psychological complexity, identity, and the relationship between people and the world around them.

ROOM 410 reflects her interest in combining storytelling with psychological themes and questions about human behavior.

Kiss