Arthur Simmonds,
I appreciate your letter and all it's sentiments, but it was the wrong day to send it. Actually, it was more like the wrong day for me to receive it. See, this morning was the worst day, week, whatever of my friggin short life!
Okay, first I'm going to give you some more info about my Purgatory. As I've discovered, most of the time, Purgatory covers at least the city that this health club is in. Even the outdoor pool. I actually went out there once. The weather was pretty nice. It was around the 70s Farenheight (don't know how to spell that word) and a little breezy. Once, I got in there and started swimming, hoping that I could possibly pass by the rest of my possibly-eternal-possibly-not life in Purgatory swimming there. For some reason, I can only swim so long before I get bored. Swimming is fun and all, but I can't do the same thing for days on end. It gets really boring.
See, that's what you don't get, Arthur... Peace. Is. Boring. I don't know how the old people do it for so long.
Anyway, let me explain why today was the worst day of my life. It's been about a week since I came here (I know that the blog archive says it came a day later, but time passes differently in Purgatory). So, I was just sitting in the hot tub, very bored. The heat was kind of making me dizzy, which was fun, so I just sat there. Anyway, when I started to feel nauseated, I got out of the hot tub (I'd thrown up too many times for it to be fun). So, I walked by the windows to go to the pool when I looked up and saw a huge crowd around the outside pool. At first, I was a bit confused. I was wondering if like a school bus went off a cliff or something because they were all kids like me. Then, I recognized one of the faces. It was one of my earthly friends, Rohario Mohalez (I don't think that's his real name. I take Spanish and I know the way he pronounces it does not match up with the way it's spelled. I'm not sure, but I think he may be running from the Russian mafia or something. It couldn't be the American mafia, seeing as he'd be trying to hide from the American mafia in America. I'm pretty sure he's not that dumb. But hey, it's been known to happen.)
Sorry about that tangent, I'm trying to distract myself from the horrible sadness that's taken me over. Anyway, I started paying close attention to the faces, and recognized them all. They were all from my school! I realized that they were having the School's Out! pool party. A black banner caught my eye. It read "In Memory of Mark Greenman". Everyone out there was really sad, I could tell. But me, I was ecstatic. Here it was! My chance to enter the real world and see my friends again! I ran to the door and reached out to push it open. Still running, I put all my weight behind my hands as they hit the door. The door didn't move an inch. My elbows buckled and my momentum propelled the rest of my body into the door. CRASH! My face hit the door last, before my whole body bounced backward. I tipped over onto the ground. I could feel blood rushing out of my nose; it was broken. I got up, dazed. Then I ran at the door again. It didn't move. I pushed the door, I kicked it, I punched it. I pounded the door over and over again. I started crying. I didn't care. All I wanted was to be with my friends again.
"Let me out!" I screamed. "Let me out, please!" I continued pounding. "LET ME OUT!" I pounded on that door for a long time. My arms grew tired, but I kept pounding. My throat burned, but I kept screaming. I was desperate to be in the real world. I'd never wanted anything more than this. My vision blurred, and I felt myself fall to the ground and fade away...
When I woke up, they were gone. I couldn't move, I was so physically and emotionally spent. I just laid there for what seemed like an eternity...
Checking the blog, I can't imagine trying to make good out of this situation. Maybe later, but not now...
Sincerely,
Mark Greenman
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment