What if hell is just a chamber with unending projections and replays of one’s worst memories?

As I laid my eyes on the last word, everything became pure obscurity and silence engulfed my surroundings.


I woke up with a strong urge to tell my best friend every detail constructing the weird nightmare I just had…You see, it was a chaotic one and I needed to search for an explanation that might decipher what I went through in my land of virtuality…or is all of it virtual?… We’re like that, we tell each other about the joys we encounter and the bitterness we face.

I had my breakfast and told my mom that I’m planning to go see my beloved friend, she responded with a deranged look on her face…To be honest, it looked more like disappointment than discontent.. »You don’t think that these visits have been too much lately? You’re starting to scare me » She said, I haven’t understood the reason why would she express herself like that when we’re on holiday, so I just replied with « No ».

He lives a bit far, so the bike’s my all-time ride to get to where he is. It’s a summer day, the sun’s penetrated every corner, crack, and window. It’s hot, there’s no breeze to move the trees leaves or the flags on top of the houses, the streets were deserted and the ones who dared to go out were holding bottles of water or cold soda cans…Finally, after my lungs were drained out of all energy and all the water in my body was consumed, I reached his neighborhood.

Him playing with his ball wasn’t something new to my sight, but it’s his outfit that captivated my curiosity, he’s wearing a white t-shirt, white pants, white sneakers, and a yellow hat. It’s seemed weird to me that his mom permitted him to go out and play with such clothes. She knows that he’s a mess and always tires her with laundry…I waved at him as he was going to shot the ball…I reckon this was a mistake because I distracted him and he hit it directly into his neighbor’s head causing him to trip and fall…I run towards him, gave him my hand to help, but he quickly got up, looked at me and said  » Don’t worry kid, I’m just getting sloppy with age »… »Strange statement, sir » this was the response aching me at the time, and I wanted to speak it but something stopped me, a strange feeling, like if just knowing that no harm happened to him was enough for me to accept whatever statement he had to say, out of caring about elderly, but also to not dive in details that may clear the fog overshadowing his judgment and blame my best friend…In all cases, I’ve always found people living in that area of the city to be nicer than the ones living in mine…

The man continued walking and faded in the unfinished road. I went to my all-white friend, he was giggling not worrying about what he’s just caused. I gently hit him on the head and said « You fool, you’ve always sucked at football », he responded with a grumpy face « It wasn’t my fault you distracted me ». I didn’t want to answer him and start a debate since I was bearing an excitingly horrifying tail. I told him to sit down so that I could narrate to him the nightmare without skipping any details…I began by telling him that we were on a trip…a car trip and I was the one driving…he interrupted me by raising the question that I’ve, maybe, gained the ability to see in the future and that it was more of a vision than a dream. Of course, I shut him down right away and continued deciphering the demented dream, talking about the long road through the forest with long trees standing on the sides of it, it was the shortest way to get to the lake. And how things went berserk with our car crashing with a speeding truck…Then everything went black causing me to wake up sweating, frightened and with memory holes because I don’t remember what happened next.

He stood up, looked at me without saying a word, his eyes fixed on mine…He wasn’t pleased with what he’s just heard, that was my guess…And he sprinted into inside his house, leaving me in a shock since I couldn’t understand what was happening. I preferred to patiently wait for him outside…He got out after a few minutes and as I was about to ask him for illumination, he handed me a folded piece of paper and said to me with a static tone and emotionless eyes « It’s time »…confusion reached my bones and senses, my heartbeats speeded up, my hands started shaking as I was sweating, my head ticking like a bomb about to explode and my vision got blurred. I looked at him hoping to find an answer in his facial gestures or in the void of his eyes, but he only insisted, « Open it, open it » he repeated. The words betrayed me and my cowardness took over, so I unfolded the paper. Everything around me started to fade as darkness started emerging from every corner, crack, and window…Only one straight line was engraved on the paper and it said:  » You need to let me go, the crash wasn’t your fault »…As I laid my eyes on the last word, everything became pure obscurity and silence engulfed my surroundings…

An echo came from a far source saying « It’s time for his medication, he’s raving, he drifted away again »

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