I sat waiting across from the Doctor for his response. He was looking over m portfolio with tired eyes. What was inside was unknown to me, since it was my permanent record. Who knows what was in there. It might even be about my sex life, which was nonexistent.
Looking around the room, which I finally took a notice of, I began to feel uneasy. I could tell the walls were metallic, but they were covered with blood-colored rust. If I didn't know better, it was blood, and it just crusted after a long period of time. The ceiling and floor were covered the same way. The only things that seemed out of place in this strange room were the pop-up table between us and the chairs we were sitting on. Completely clean.
A single door connected us to the outside world. With confusion, I wondered how I got in here, since I don't remember coming through a door. In fact, I don't know what I'm doing here at all. It seems as if I just awoke here, with no knowledge of how I got where I was. Did somebody kidnap me and place me here? What was this place? Who was this Doctor?
"Well, it seems as if we are ready to talk now, Donny Newlan."
Focusing on the Doctor now, I saw that he was done looking at my permanent record. Before I could question him, he continued.
"Donny, I'm going to ask you some questions about your record, and I need you to be honest. I also need you to trust me since we are going to be with each other awhile."
"What exactly are you talking about? What am I doing here?"
"All this questioning could go much smoother if you would answer my questions, not the other way around. That is why you are here. May I please continue?"
This Doctor seemed to be in a very serious mood. I'm way too confused and tired to do any arguing with him right now anyways. With no other choice, I agreed.
"Thank you. I'm going to start with your childhood, since all behavior is determined at that age. I want all your answers to be truthful, since I'm going to be asking about you. Do you understand?"
I said yes, wondering what the whole point of this was.
"Did you ever torture anyone while you were young?"
I was about to say no, but caught myself after a little flashback. It seemed as if I forgot all about the past until now.
"Yes, but only a bit. It doesn't really matter."
"I happen to think it does. Were you a selfish child?"
"Isn't everyone?"
"Do you believe you made all the right choices?"
"No one ever does."
"When was the first time you masturbated?"
"...Why must I answer that question?"
"Because you can trust me, and it has to do with why you are here."
"I don't see what it has to do with anything. It's none of your business."
Still starring at me, he talked to me, unfaltered.
"Would telling me when be easier if I told you I already knew?"
I was stunned, but only for a moment.
"You can't know, because I never told anyone."
"That is true, but I still know when."
"How? From my file there? Does it contain all my intimate secrets?"
"Yes, it does."
"You're full of shit!"
"It was in the 5th grade."
"...What?"
"That was when you started masturbating. I can't give you specifics, because you don't know exactly when either."
I was given a low blow. How did he know that? I never even told my parents, though I thought they always suspected. Not even the few nameless girlfriends I trusted my body with. The Doctor broke my confusion.
"As I said, this file contained that information and much more."
"...Give me that file."
He handed it over without question. If this file really contained my personal life, he had no reason to look at it. I opened it, and I was starring right back at myself. It was a mirror!
"What the hell is this?"
"That is your file, Donny. You only see yourself in the folder because you already know what's in it."
"And what's that?"
"All your known and secret doings."
If that was true, the Doctor knew all of them. He read the entire file, who knows how many times. My hands tightened around the file in horror of my paranoia.
"Donny, I want you to stop thinking for a moment. Please clear your mind."
With effort, I did as he told me, but I was still uneasy in my situation.
"Before I started talking about your record, I said you could trust me. You can trust me, because all I want to do is help you. Please Donny."
In his voice, I heard sympathy and sadness. I looked up, and saw his head leaned forward and his eyes closed, deep in concentration. Losing fear, I handed him my file. He opened his eyes and took the file from me, wearing a shallow smile.
"Thank you."
Taking the file from my hand, he stood up.
"I believe it is time to explain where you are and why you are here. Come with me."
He motioned to the door leading out. If the Doctor could really be trusted, I had to go with him. He promised answers, which were what I really needed right now, not knowing where I am and all. I followed him, preparing myself for what may or may not be coming.
A hall loomed right in front of me. The walls, ceiling and floor were just like the room. A red rust look, all illuminated by the same hanging lamp all the way down the hall, which did not seem to end. Doors lined the walls. Every door was the same: red rust color, and a seeing window to look in. A file holder was nailed next to the right of every door. They all had folders that looked just like mine.
"You can look inside any of the rooms if you want," said the Doctor. "But please don't look in the folders."
'Very well,' thought I. Looking at the nearest file holder and door, I saw a name on the holder. Alica Grams. I looked inside.
A woman, who was probably Alica, was trying to kill herself. She was ripping into her face with her bare hands. She was screaming, but I couldn't hear through the door. After tearing into her face, she ran into the once white padded wall shoulder first, bouncing back onto the also padded floor.
While all this was happening, I was struggling to open the door. A handle provided me with leverage, and I was pulling as hard as I could. The rust must have gotten into the hinges, because it would not move.
"The door pushes in," the Doctor said calmly.
"Thanks for telling me! Now help me get in!"
I began pounding my body into the door. She was beginning to dig into her eyes. I had to get in and stop her! The door would still not budge. The Doctor stood watching. I ran over and grabbed the Doctor, slamming him into the other side of the hall.
"Why aren't you helping me?"
"Because we won't be able to get in."
"Why don't you unlock the damn door?"
"It's locked from the inside, Donny."
"Why did you lock it?"
"I didn't. Alica Grams did."
"...That's crazy. Why would she lock the door?"
"She doesn't want anybody to interfere."
"Why would she want to do that to herself?"
"She is full of self pity. Just like everybody else here," pointing to the door right next to him with his hitchhiking thumb.
I looked into the room, and my grip on the Doctor's shoulders waned. The room was owned by a Lawrence Dellview. He had torn all his hair out, creating huge gashes on his skull. He was now ripping those gashes even wider. And constantly screaming.
"...What's going on here?"
I let go of the Doctor and began to walk down the hall. The next door to my left had what used to be a man sprawled out on the floor. He must have ran his head into the wall with full force, leaving a huge pool of blood on the wall and around what was left of his head. Across the hall, someone was biting off their fingers. I tried to get in again, but the door was locked. I started running down the hall, seeing the same thing over and over again in those rooms. Pain and suffering.
I stopped from being out of breath, and looked down the hallway. As much as I ran, the hall still seemed to go on forever with rooms. I sat myself against the wall, tired and mentally spooked. The Doctor was walking up to me, and stopped a few feet away from me.
"Where the hell am I," while looking at him in the face.
"...Do you go to church often, Donny?"
"Not as much as I should. Why?"
"Do you know what Purgatory is?"
Purgatory. If I remember right, the preacher I knew said something about it. I heard it when I was a child. It was supposed to be the place you went to before you could get accepted to Heaven. Of course, you had to die first to even get to Purgatory.
"Are you saying I'm in Purgatory?"
"That's right. First base of the afterlife."
"...I died?"
"It seems so. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't."
"Why don't I remember dying or anything?"
"You're suffering from amnesia, at least in the physical sense."
"Just what I need. Brain damage," and I looked left and right down the halls. It was a constant pattern of red blood and doors.
"Why is this place so disgusting? I don't see how anyone can redeem themselves in a place like this."
"...The first thing you must realize is that the word 'physical' has no meaning here. The reality around us changes to what one's mood is."
"What does that have to do with putting these people in here and making them hurt themselves? What kind of Doctor are you?"
He smiled and said, "Why do you call me a Doctor?"
Emptiness seemed to fill my mind. Why did I think of him as a Doctor? He took my confused face as his cue and continued.
"As I said, the reality in this place changes to our mood. You call me a Doctor, because I somewhat view myself as one. And the way this foul place looks is not by me, but by every single person in their padded cells."
"Why are they killing themselves?"
"In Purgatory, everyone must purify their mind and body. They are confronted with all their sins and must redeem themselves before entrance to Heaven is permitted. But there is always the chance of a backfire. Faced with all of one's sins, a person may go about it all wrong, and reject all care, because of self hate. These doors represent that rejection, and the violence you see is their pain. Even God's forgiveness won't reach them, if they don't forgive themselves."
"Couldn't someone break in?"
"That would be thwarting their will. A broken spirit is nothing more than a slave. A tamed animal. All we can do is wait for them when they are done. That is why I'm here."
"What do you mean wait? They're going to bleed to death soon if we don't get to them!"
"Yes, they would, if they weren't already dead. Souls are capable of living forever, and cannot be extinguished. These people could go on for all eternity if they wanted to."
I was beginning to feel sick from thinking about all that he said. I am dead and I can't remember dying. Purgatory was the state before Heaven. Souls damning themselves to constant pain and suffering.
"...What am I doing here?"
"...Follow me. I want to show you more."
"Why don't you just tell me?"
"I'm going to tell you. Just follow me."
I sighed from the stress I felt. I stood up and followed him, looking through every door, hoping to find an end to someone's pain.
Francis Drake. Darwin Jules. Jerry Phillips. Oliver Kites. Strange and unknown name passed by as I walked. But it was still the same in every padded cell. Blood scattered and constant screaming. I got into the habit of just looking at the names, since that was the only thing that split the rooms up in difference. For awhile, none of the names struck a chord in me. But then I saw one. Glenn Bishop. I rushed to the door to see if it was him.
Glenn was ripping his excess flesh with his hands. He was going at his legs now, having finished his stomach, chest and face. His body was a red mess, and his insides were in a heap around him. His jaw hung loosely, having no muscles to hold it up, but I could tell he was still screaming.
I went to the floor again, looking at the Doctor.
"That's Glenn, the fat kid I went to elementary school with."
"He has significance to you?"
"It should be right in my file there," pointing to his hand. "He was the fattest kid in school. Everybody made fun of him, and he always cried over it, making them want to do it more. I joined in one day, and became part of the 'Hate Glenn Club'. We used to throw food at him, prompting him to eat it. The worst I remember was when we tripped him after a constant teasing. We then continued to hit him over and over again until he bled. This went on for a couple of minutes until a teacher came by and stopped us. We made him regret ever being fat. I never wanted this to happen to him though."
I then stared at the Doctor. "What is Glenn doing here? He never committed any sins. He doesn't deserve this pain."
"As I said, these doors reject all love and caring. Glenn has become a self hated soul, knowing everyone around him hates him and his body. He won't let anybody else tell him otherwise."
"But he has committed no sins! Sinful actions were only put against him!"
"That early in childhood, he couldn't have seen the difference. Everybody hated him, including himself. And now he is doing the only that can get rid of his hate...by taking away his fat."
"...This sucks. Is everybody here like Glenn? Good people that were just beat over the head too much?"
"Not all. The rest are ones that had committed sins against people like Glenn."
"Look, I'm getting real tired of all this," I declared as I stood up. "What the hell am I doing here?"
"...The answer is right over there."
He was pointing to an open cell down the hallway.
I rushed past the last few doors into the cell. Upon entering, I stopped in my tracks. It was entirely clean. The padding was white across the entire floor, walls and ceiling. The padding was new, like it was just put in. You could even smell the newness of the room. Any notion of anybody being there was gone. I looked behind me at the door, and it was silver colored. The room was normal.
I walked out and saw the Doctor standing.
"Is this a vacant room?"
"No, this room has just been emptied," and he placed my folder in the vacant file holder. I looked at it, and it said 'Donny Newlan'.
"...What the hell is going?"
"This was your room, Donny."
"...That's not possible. I couldn't have been in here."
"You have to stop ignoring the facts, Donny."
"Why don't I remember being in here?"
"Would you want to remember your own torture? That you were just like every other self mutilator here?"
"...I suppose that makes sense. But I still don't see why I would be here in the first place."
"I said you had amnesia, but it is more complicated than that. As you were in here, your insanity lead you to believe that there was only pain and everything else was trivial. After who knows how long you punished yourself, your 'body' couldn't take anymore and you 'died out'. Your past psyche was wiped away, leaving you in the state you are in right now...confused and afraid."
"But why would I put myself through all this shit?"
"Remember when I asked if you masturbated? At that age, you were ashamed of what you were doing, and kept it secret. But you always assumed your parents knew, and that added to your pain. But that wasn't all that did it. You sinned against Glenn when you were young and foolish. You knew he would forever suffer because of you. A choice you regretted. The entire reason you are here is because of regret. Making mistakes and choosing the wrong roads. All the pain you have caused to yourself and others makes you hate yourself a little more."
"Everybody makes mistakes though! We shouldn't have to damn ourselves to our own hell because of them!"
"That is very true. You realize now that it's silly to commit yourself to torture because of 'what ifs'. Evolution stops if one does not look to the future. Your mind wasn't capable of comprehending this, and you damned yourself to pain."
All this seemed too impossible. And yet, it made sense. I've regretted lots of things I did, and so does everybody else. To have every single failure and other possibility dropped on you at once would drive anyone insane.
"...This is all too confusing."
"I know. I once had to deal with all that by myself when I got out."
"...You were in one of these rooms?"
"...Once. I see past all the regretful choices I've made now. I look to the future. I could leave this behind and go to Heaven, but to me, that would be selfish. I decided to stay and help others like me."
Look to the future? What kind of future does one have in the Afterlife? Could I be happy, or would there be pain on the road? I was watching the door of my empty cell when it suddenly slammed shut and locked itself. The walls I saw through the window were bleeding blood, and so was the door. I looked at the file holder, and saw the new name. Wilson Ivan. Inside, Wilson started to hurl himself against the walls, wasting no time.
I turned to the Doctor and said, "Is there anything to eat here?"
"...Sure. We just have to walk some more."
"I really have a craving for a pear right now."
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