Eel black, the color of darkened skies; unpleasantries, which remind one of conflicting mindful territories. For the stars always sleep, and the moon had no reputation to keep. Mindless black sheep, follow the crowd, and with no beginning, in sight, they walk towards a flashing light, colorless.
It takes 3 seconds for people to appear in succession. They examine their new immaculate bodies in confusion and fear before morphing and joining the other mindless sheep. But, Persephone is different.
She had not lived before she died. Her life was a futile mess, and her death was insignificant. She was nothing but a forgotten face in a sea of remembered faces: victims of mass homicide, fear inflictors from those that live in discontent with America. However, she remembered. She was herself among the forgotten. In the darkness of the void, she could see, and she was the only one.
“You have no business here,” said an omniscient ominous voice. “You see what those here don’t. Let go! Remove thyself!”
In fear, Persephone paused; mindless sheep making their way around her. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Who are you? What is this?”
“Azure,” the voice whispers this time, filling up the silent space. “This the void. You are dead.”
“No,” Persophone starts talking over Azure’s words.
“There is no escape. You can’t win; you can’t leave. Your life is over, and that is final. You are too far gone to be saved. Stop resisting! Let go!”
“No!” Persephone yells for the last time before running in the other direction. Yet, it doesn’t work. Her legs pain her the more she moves, and at some point, she falls. Her legs won’t work. Then, she’s plummeting through the ground with the shadow of Azure’s face blocking her vision.
Persephone falls for a long time. She doesn’t know when it ends or how it starts. She only remembers the sinking feeling and constantly reaching for where her heart would have been. Sometimes, she sees images. They are short blasts, and they incite so much fear that somewhere along the line she almost chokes on her own emotions. She remembers in waves screaming, blood, fear, blood, falling rooftops, or is it the sky? She remembers a woman laying there before her, who she cries for, in the midst of chaos. She remembers how her leg won’t cooperate, and she can’t move! She can’t see! It hurts.
“Less than this place,” a voice responds to her thoughts, and for the first time in a long time, she can see something other than black.
“Mimetic,” the voice responds again before holding a hand out to help her up.
“What is this?”
“The choke,” Mimetic responds immediately before walking to what seems to be a rock and sitting down on it. In his hand is an unnamed acidic drink, and he watches, separated by the fabric that is reality, as the people walk among themselves.
“That’s Samuel over there,” he says after a beat of silence. “It’s all that they said purgatory would be-”
“But, it isn’t purgatory. We are simply ghosts stuck in this middle-gound,” Samuel interrupts spitefully.
“But why are we the only ones?”
“No unfinished business,” Mimetic responds immediately once more. Then, they are silent; each brooding in their own way.
“I want out!” Persephone yells suddenly, banging her hand on the glass. “I want out! I want out! I want out!”
“No escape.” The response is bland and the voices of Mimetic and Samuel blend, but lingering in the air is hope. There is a small chance they don’t believe what they are saying, but it’s obvious they have been here for too long. Thing is, Persephone notices this, and she bends it to her will. She looks them in the eye and gives an amazing explanation on how to beat the system. She wilts the growing pits of despair and revels in it. Nevertheless, they had reason to fear. For in their second escape attempt, they are confronted with Titus.
Titus is a beast full of rage. He, too, died before he lived, but he grew to maturity in the void. He earned the respect of the higher beings, and resigned himself to this job; a job he now well enjoys. It’s fun to watch the life leave their eyes is the only response he gives when asked why.
The fight is brutal. There is much to fight for. Samuel longs for the days where he could run alongside his family. Mimetic longs for the smell of the ocean and a sense of peace. Persephone doesn’t know what she longs for, but she wants out.
Maybe it’s because of this that their fight is unsuccessful. Persephone lacks heart because she doesn’t remember. The memory of the pain, the fire, the ashes, how she chokes on thick black fog have yet to enter her mind. They flash in bouts of pain, and she remembers the feeling sinking feeling of dread as she looks to another woman. She hasn't anything to fight for. She just knows that she wasn’t ready.
Who is ready for death? It lingers behind every door, it appears in every song, every moment, every sound of your voice. It watches you as it would prey. For death is inevitable, and she tries to run. What for? Nothing. Why? She doesn't like it. She had no choice. People have no choice. There is no leaving the void.
Therefore, it takes no time for Samuel to die. Samuel hid in his corner of the choke for a long time, watching the people live the life he never could. He reminisced and remembered everything. He remembered his children, and the crash in the car he wasn't supposed to be driving. In his last moments, he smiled at his wife who was struck with horror and grief.
Mimetic is next. Mimetic sat in the opening hoping for a friend. For Mimetic, there was no need to remember. All his life, he had been a citizen of the sea. In the water, he was birthed. In the water, he was raised. In the water, he died. His memory was never whole, though. He could never remember what happened when he was 12. His last moments included a gaze to the sky and he drifted lower and lower.
Persephone is the last to go. The only memory of a past life she has is the flash of death before her eyes. She never figured out it’s her mother she keeps seeing. She never remembers her dad or the reason he dies. She never gets to figure out that she happened to be on the bottom floor when the plan stuck, but she never made it out.
In the end, Titus lacks mercy. They have died, and it can’t be changed. Their new being becomes them fully, but only once they let go. In the end, it doesn’t matter.
Eel black, the color of darkened skies; unpleasantries, which remind one of conflicting mindful territories. For the stars always sleep, and the moon had no reputation to keep. Mindless black sheep, follow the crowd, and with no beginning, in sight, they walk towards a flashing light, colorless. It takes 3 seconds for people to appear in succession. They examine their new immaculate bodies in confusion and fear before morphing and joining the other mindless sheep. There is no individuality.
© 2019 Ara Moonshine