The Cleansing

Slowly, my paralyzed limbs and torso began to heal. It felt like loosing circulation in your leg or arm, it hurting so bad, you start stamping your foot. While tingling all over, I look back in the direction where I came from, only to see a blank white wall. The point of no return. I took a second to think of my life, to play a slideshow in my head of the personal landmarks I had accomplished and left while alive.

I felt myself smile. Friends and coworkers, family and strangers, I was nothing but a blessed memory to them now. I wondered what my funeral would look like- I had always wanted to be creamated, my children take a roadtrip and throw my ashes out the car window, leaving my mark and letting me rest where my heart yearned most. That, of course, would not be what would happen. I didn't have children, just had a fourteen year old brother, young and niave. I missed him the most. I thought about the regrets I had- not spending more time with him, not traveling to India as I had dreamed of, and not finding a stable faith. Well, I guess the third one is out of the question now. Yet while thinking of the things I never had a chance, or never took the chace to do, I realized that I truely did not regret one single thing- not even finding my faith. I guess I was comfortable with my life, and not relying on anything bigger made me focus on living for me. And with that, I lived for others. I hope that young Paul will always remember me- I know I will of him.

I then heard the sound of glass breaking beyond the door, snapping me out of my dreamy reflections. I tried to stand up, but my feet still couldn't handle the weight, and I stumbled again. I attempted again, and this time, though my legs were quivering like that of a newborn filly, I slowly stood up. I had never felt so elevated in my life. I reached for the doorknob, the cream envelope in the other hand. I entered, closing my eyes for one last moment to have for myself. They didn't stay closed for long.

Glass broke again off in the distance. Before me was what looked to me like a waiting area of a dentist's office. Victorian chairs and sofas were placed in a circle, with sky blue walls and pictures of the World Wonders hung on the far wall. I tiptoed in, and quickly remembered my addressed instructions, and looked for the nearest sink. Nothing but an empty bowl and a pitcher of water on a small table. I grabbed the pitcher by the handle and poured the water into the bowl as slowly as possible, closing my eyes and remembering the sound of the water hitting the china. It's funny how suddenly you want to record every sense you have after the feeling of not having them at all.

I looked at my reflection in the Mirror. Dear God. My hair was frizzy and caked in dirt, my face showing signs of decay. I put my hands in to splash water upon my face, then stopped myself before I could. The letter was specific, only saying hands. I didn't have room to mess up any instructions, so I carefully submerged the tips of my fingers below the surface of the water. It was then the water froze.

I yelped in pain, with my fingers stuck inside the bowl of frozen water. It burned, different from the earlier sensations, but burning none of the less. I held my breath, and felt tears stream down my face. I knew this was too good to be true.
I just stood there, wincing from the freezing pain, when I heard a door close. I tried to turn around, but my neck wouldn't move- I was to stay facing the sky blue wall, wether I liked it or not. I felt a man breathing into my ear, whispering some arcane language. He paused, the raised his voice saying the same chant over and over. I couldn't turn around to see him, but I supposed he was waiting for a response, and wasen't satified with silence.

Chapter One: The Corridor

I didn't expect it to happen this way.

I can't feel a nerve in my body. Although the blow I've just taken was expected to send pain into me as I have never felt before, I couldn't feel it. I was scared that my mind had exempted me from the feelings of anguish, and it was then I began to realize- I have lost all of my senses. I cannot see, nor can I feel. I cannot even tell you if I have a nose or ears- my mind is on standby.

The only thing working are my emotions. My sudden panics, my fits of confusion, these are the only signs of use in my mind.Within seconds of discovering my disadvantages, my body proved me wrong once again. Sensations of the absent pain soon returned with a vengeance. I must have been standing up during my time of numbness, since I felt my legs give way underneath me, my body collapsed against the warm, moist ground. I began to spasm as fits of pain started at my feet, torturing me as it traveled up my knees and ribs. As the splitting burns reached my back, I screamed in anguish- I realized the pain in my back was the source of the burns. I doubled over- What is happening to me?

I became paralyzed again. I realized that I have yet to open my eyes, in which I carefully do so. I braced myself and gritted my teeth... Nothing. All that was present was a narrow white corridor with a single wooden door. I move to stand, yet my body reminds me I am still paralyzed. Damn. The only part of me that worked were my arms. Thank God. I crawled as if I were a Vietnam soldier, my elbows inching me closer and closer towards the single door. As I reach for the brass doorknob, I notice a corner of a cream envelope sticking out from underneath it. I grab it, carefully unsealing the envelope to pull out a single leaf of paper. I began to read:

Welcome

Emilie Christian Hastings

T.O.D. May Seventeen 1997, 10:47 PM

Please cleanse hands upon entrance

Enjoy your stay

Though the elegant print was appealing, it took a few seconds to actually comprehend what it was telling me. Suddenly the gears and motors turned in my brain, and everything clicked. I died. Every small minute I had spent alive had officially been cashed in. It finally happened. Where was I? What was I doing? The questions of death I used to contemplate as a troubled teen were suddenly answered. Yet with it bore more questions.

I looked up from where I was lying and stared at the doorknob. Fear grew inside of me, more than I had ever felt. What was the point of being afraid anymore? I was already dead. Yet I know deep down that what awaited me beyond that door would be either by reward or my doom, depending on which religious text was the best seller through that wooden passage. My thoughts were racing, trying to decide whether or not to quickly convert to something safe. No, I decided. I left as a woman of good morale and spirit without faith, and that is how I will enter the other side, whatever that meant. The doorknob turned with a loud click, and pulled the door ajar. Whatever I was waiting for, I was ready.