Page 90 of The Karma Project
I was never good enough for any of them. They’d never say that, but I know it. They gave me a home, a real home. All I gave them in return was petulance, and arrogance. I was just another headache, a problem, for them to solve.
I died before I could make them proud. I died before I could make myself proud.
I never did see enough sunrises, and I never got to lay on the grass and pick out shapes in the clouds.
I don’t know where I’m at, but I know I’m somewhere in between. Waiting to learn my eternal fate.
I have no doubt I’ll be headed to Hell if it exists. I never really followed an organized religion, however, that’s not to say I don’t believe in evil.
I’ve looked evil directly in the eye as I carved out his heart.
However, if Heaven and Hell don’t exist this reality is much more devastating. I’d rather have an eternity of flames and torture and never-ending pain, than this empty void of regret and guilt.
Maybe I am already in Hell? I wouldn’t be surprised at all if this is the fate I deserved. I’ve killed, and tortured, and fucked nameless faceless people for years. I’ve let myself waste away during a year of binge drinking. I even mutilated and murdered my own father.
This black void goes on forever, I look down and I don’t even see my body anymore. It’s just dark and empty and there is nothing here to distract me from this spiral of should haves.
I stretch out my invisible fingers and for a moment, I get the sensation that I’m actually touching something, I try to create more movement and there is this shocking ping in my head, and I wince.
It’s good to know I can at least feel pain in this void, so I find comfort in the thought and continue to repeat the movement.
Stretch, grab, roll, then the shock comes again. Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
The more I repeat the cycle the bigger this little light in the far distance starts to grow.
Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
I start to feel what I believe are my ankles and I repeat the movement in both my hands and feet.
Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
The light seems to get bigger and brighter, almost closer.
Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
Then I can start to hear something, a mechanic hum of some sort.
I’m in excruciating pain, but at least it's not an eternity of nothingness.
Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
The humming sound increases, and the ball of light is so close I feel like I can almost touch it.
Stretch, grab, roll, shock.
Then suddenly I’m gasping for air, choking back sweet, sweet oxygen that seems to be too thin in the air around me. I begin to blink, and I realize I’m no longer in the void.
The ball of light I saw is more blinding than ever and I’m finally surrounded by it. I blink a few more times and my eyes eventually and I realize I’m not in a ball of light, I’m in a brightly lit room, in a bed. I look down at my hands that are restrained by metal clasps to the railing of the bed, and my ankles are in the same state.
I’m not dead, I’m alive. I’m still in the same clothes I was wearing earlier.
Earlier.
A flood of memories came back to me. The Cambions, the drop, Max refused to let me go with them on the mission. The urgent text from Brandon. Speeding down the highway. The tunnels.
The powder.
I was captured. Tricked. It was a set up. It was all a set up.
