Chapter Five: My Life HereAfter by Rosaline Saul
Someone calls Charlene, and I turn around toward the room behind me.
I notice of the twenty kids who gathered here initially
there were only ten left. I become conscious of the scary thought that when we
leave this room, we do not come back again.
Pathetically, I grab onto her hand and I want to keep her back. I do not want her to go.
She smiles angelically, and her blue eyes glitter with a
sense of euphoria. Encouragingly she says, while she softly pulls her hand from
mine, “I’ll see you soon. On the other side.”
I drop my face into my palms again and I sit like this until
they call my name. I block out the surrounding voices, which is mainly Lionel,
talking to himself as he tries to make sense of everything in his head, and his
words are escaping his lips.
After they call my name, I stand up slowly and I smile
goodbye to each of them in turn. Carly, who I do not really know, but I feel
desperately sorry for her, and she obviously has a lot of unresolved issues.
Mark, whom I only know from stalking him on the school
grounds with Charlene. Lastly, I look at Lionel. Kind, honest, and truthful
Lionel, who looks excited for his turn to come. I sigh deeply and turn away. I
have to let go of them as I feel a weird tugging feeling, which forces me to
walk into the inner vestibule of the Hall of Judgement.
When I reach the door, it swings open automatically in front
of me.
I walk into the room and for a long moment, the sensation in
my nose feels strange and foreign, and then I realise it is because I cannot
smell any one thing. There is absolutely no smell.
It is a large, white circular room without any windows. The
room seems to spiral up as far as my eye can see and beyond. There are also
three white doors to my right. The doors do not have any door handles and are
smooth polished marble. They each have a plaque similar to the one on the door
at the entrance of the Hall of Judgement.
The first door says Recycle. Next to Recycle, there is
Rehabilitation. And next to Rehabilitation, there is Rapture.
My eyes linger on the word Rapture. I wonder which door, I
should choose. Which door did Charlene choose? Most importantly, will there be
a choice?
In front of me, there is a wall of solid wood, and I look up
until the back of my head pushes against the top of my back.
Twelve hooded figures look down at me. The hoods of their
white cloaks are deep, and I cannot see their faces.
I wonder if I should talk first, or if they are going to ask
me questions, there is only silence. I am deprived of sound and smell.
The wood panel in front of me lights up and then I smile
when I see my mum with a little baby who looks a lot like my baby photos. Then
there is a toddler waddling across the screen. I gasp when I see myself at my
eighth birthday party. I grasp this is where my life is supposed to flash in
front of my eyes. The images move fast, and it portrays every single aspect of
my life lived.
Then fear grips my heart when I recognise the bus and I try
to close my eyes because I did not want to see it. I force my eyes to close
with great difficulty, but the story of my life continues to play on my
eyelids.
I see myself walking to the front of the bus slowly with the
red balloon filled with air from my own lungs. Smiling impishly at the kids I
walk past, when they frown up at me, I put my finger on my lips, drawing them
into my web with their silence. When I get behind the bus driver, I pop the
balloon loudly. It was only supposed to be a funny prank, and I did not for a
moment consider the consequences. In that short, brief moment when I see the
bus driver jerk with fright and the bus swerve on the road, I considered what a
stupid thing it was to do. I am standing behind the bus driver and in a huge,
3D, panoramic, flat widescreen; I see the side of the bridge crumble as the bus
drives into it. I grab onto the hand railing of the seat to the side of me. My
ears fill with panic filled screams of terror and horror. The bus tilts
forwards as the tires leave the tarmac. My body lifts diagonally as the bus
dives straight down toward the ground below. It twirls in the air once and I
feel my body go upside down, the wrong side up, and then the bus connects with
the water in the river. For a moment, it feels as if the bus bounces back and
then everything around me explodes into a colourless, luminous light.
I open my eyes with panic. They are going to realise now
their detector machine at the reception building is faulty and they are going
to send me to the bad camp. I am evil and I should not even be here. I killed
sixty people.
A booming voice from atop me asks, “Do you have anything to
say in your own defence, Sunel Rose Anderson?”
Remorsefully I shake my head, while I say apologetically,
“No.” I add in a soft, whisper, “I am sorry.”
The door named Rehabilitation opens slowly, silently next to
me. I look at it dumbfounded. What are they doing? I should not be here, and I
do not belong here with all the other good people. I am filled to the brim with
sin.
Comments
Post a Comment