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For the umpteenth time, I wondered if this was hell, even though they said that hell only was an option after you lived and died. Which was a while away for me. I hadn't lived yet.
I wonder what it was like, existing. Not just floating around, not having a body. When they had told me I was going, I hadn't known what to think. Or to expect. Those who came back said it was unlike any experience you would ever have. Still, what was that supposed to mean? Unlike any experience I had ever known? Wasn't it- scary? Or something like that? Was dying scary? Was it fun to live? Like a game? Was it hard?
All I knew was that it was different as I wandered through the hallways filled with cupboards.
And none of them fit properly. I tried to tell myself that nobody was incapable of living. When you went in, you couldn't go back. Figuratively. There were no directions here. Except in these hallways. The directions were already oddly confining. You couldn't just float, tumbling, upright, doing cartwheels through infinity. I couldn't imagine not being able to do that. I had always done it.
And they said you wouldn't be able to remember this place.
You would think you had always been there, and would speculate about where you had come from when you got older. Aging. Also something I couldn't imagine.
Maybe life was just a giant ball of things you couldn't imagine happening to you just the same. That sounded about right. I tested the knob of the nearest cupboard, and traced the edges. Definitely not.
You were supposed to find a cupboard that fit you perfectly and shut the door. You didn't have to go inside, you would just know. From looking at it. And I hadn't found one yet. There was only one, supposedly. Did I have to look through all of them? The tug of time was beginning to pull harder, and I felt as if I wanted to be doing something else. A weird feeling. Well. I had to stop saying everything was so off.
It just made it more so.
The cupboards, I’d been told, were as different as the people that existed. Some had wooden doors, green slats. Others were polished marble, and yet others were plain white with brass knobs. One of them was entirely made out of silver and gold. I wondered what kind of person fit into that one.
What kind of life they would live.
Time continued to stretch onwards, until I saw it. Exactly as they had described it. You would know.
I instinctively walked towards it, then stepped back and gave it a double take.
It was all grey, and the knob was some sort of polished glass. It looked nice. At least I thought so.
All grey. What was that supposed to mean about my years ahead? What did grey symbolize, if anything?
I wasn't getting anywhere with this. Now or never, then.
Focusing on thoughts of this place in a feeble attempt to keep from forgetting them, I turned the knob and stepped inside backwards, running a finger along the walls. Which really did fit me perfectly. My expanse of being seemed to exist just to be in this and to live.
The knob was the same on the inside too, so I closed it. Nothing happened until I let go of the knob.
My senses were all assaulted at once and all I knew was that I was living now. There had been nothing before.
Wait, my senses?
So this is what it was-
A scream ripped through the air. My throat hurt. Several hands, and a flurry of movement and limbs.
Life. The air whispered. You’re living. Good luck.
The air didn't answer, and I could have sworn I heard it laugh.
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