Escape Africa (15)

 

15. Wastelands:

‘There are two sides to every brain, a Left and a Right
that are not the same.’

‘Left is more sensible, functional and critical. Left
makes decision of control and rational.’

‘Right is chaotic, expressive and fun.’ ‘Right ignores
serious and prefers to have fun.’

‘Left is the adult mind trained to ensure living where
Right the child content with is ‘alive’?’

‘Two half tasked with keeping one whole remain in
conflict and disagreement when tasked with the same thing.’ The door slammed
suddenly shut with nobody present to witness it. Time stolen cannot be
reclaimed, time taken becomes due. Well here we are again, alone with the
universe having restored all that went unbalanced. A necessary balance kept
between the living and the dead. ‘Not unless you’ve lost your purpose in life
will you take your own life and enter into the hall of suicide.’ ‘I’m just here
to work then I’m gone.’ ‘As am I god but you still owe Hell a Nehalem soul.’

‘I’ll bring one soon enough.’ The feeling of darkened
existence came from the air Arthur breathed. The hall of suicides sucked all
that is living from the souls lining it’s never ending passage, every soul
within had willingly taken their own life and surrendered everything that is
the soul to the nothing of eternity. He was now one such soul, an empty shell
echoing despair, tragedy and sorrow. Souls of suicide are haunted by the sounds
of abandonment that resonate through the hollow vessels of the former life now
wasted in death. Arthur neither stirred nor spoke when he finally found him;
blank was his eternal punishment and penance. His eyes washed over Joseph, his
hand lifted and pointed westward, his mouth whispered breathless. ‘Follow.’  Slowly they travelled across the wastelands of
eternity to find the judgement. The immortals expecting their arrival showed
distaste. ‘A fallen reaper brings a soul of suicide before us expecting
judgement. Arthur you are banished from existence and cannot seek the judgement
of the immortals; why do you bring this soul before us?’

‘He is a soul facing punishment for suicide, that I do
not ask judgement for. He is still bound to earth by the knowledge he
possesses,’ ‘We have all knowledge, we are all knowledge, ask your question,’

‘There is a weapon stolen from earth brought to Hell that
I need find,’ ‘Your petty quest does not interest us.’ ‘My quest is my
redemption not my question.’ ‘Speak fallen reaper, ask your question,’

‘Can this suicide be justified if the act was done in
self preservation?’

‘The fallen reaper speaks true; no harm can come to this
soul until it again faces judgement. Go reaper, return this soul to earth.’ All
that remained of a decent man was about to die. One final memory recalled,
remembered and forgotten. He never resented anything because many time
throughout the experience he felt isolated. His mother praised him in piety,
her failed aspirations burdened onto the head of her son – he was never to
aspire and she showed no disappointment, none that ever noticed. His father was
ghost among the living. ‘There is no name for what I am, I have seen beyond
heaven and passed through places Hell doesn’t know exists. I have gone beyond
life and existed outside of death, beyond the universe and time. I have faced
my demons, faced other demons and known no victory from either encounter. I
have been everything and I have been nothing at all; touched by both the hand
of God and the barbs of beast unknown. You think magic exists in supernatural
forms yet you cannot fathom how real their magic is. What I have seen, what I
have done and that which I have had interactions with are a torment I wish upon
no man. There are noises in the in the dark made you do not want to fathom as
there are things contained within the living universe you dare not dream or
imagine. I am not of this world; I am of a place unknown and I hate my very
being for it. I won’t warn you nor encourage you nor will I bother to help. I
keep my visions and secrets locked away so they can rot someday in my grave
with me. I am a god walking among curious insects; do not tempt beyond yourself
as you may be taken somewhere you had never wished to go.’

 

I never went back to South Africa; I never found peace.
Ballrack walked into the darkness and I never saw him again. London is my home
now, the residence for my last days of life before I too enter into the
darkness. London is one of the ancients; I knew I would return to her, at the
end of my life. But time is enough for my retelling; I wish my ending were
happier, sometimes we are not destined to overcome and yet we manage to survive.
I, Nathaniel Bartholomew, am done.