Walk of Greed

My eyes quiver open and a pain grasps my neck.

“Hello?” I call into the gloom ahead.

Nothing answers.

I look down and realize I’m sitting, my legs engulfed under a thick fog. So thick, I could not even see them. The first thought that appeared was, is this what I think it is? The total darkness surrounding me was like the ashes from a volcano gravitating down upon eruption. My hands rise from under the fog beneath me. On my right, I hold my black notebook. My eyes wanted to fall out.

“What…?” I whisper under my breath. “Why is this here?”

I found the strength to stand up; my clothes were the last I’d worn them. A black suit with a red bowtie nearly choking the air out of me. The last thing I remember feeling. Those shoes, I could not see them, were the most uncomfortable fit, like nails piercing into my toes every time I wanted to bend them.

The book was as I last had it. Clean on the outside, but a disaster inside. I wrote in it before I fell asleep last night. Or...is it still that night? The book was full of ruptured and exuberant thoughts alike. A place to let myself unleash my emotions when they were bottled-up. Then, my eyes stretched. My bundle of cash! Where did it go? My twenty thousand dollars! Thousands!

My convulsing hands scavenge into my pockets, but there is no crinkly feeling of paper inside. It was all gone. It was all spent.

“My friends...my family...Are they here?” I asked myself. My head spins. Where is here…?

The darkness didn’t answer. There was nothing there to see, just like my hollow mind at that very moment in time - as hollow as a carved pumpkin. I could remember so little, but I could remember the feelings of which I last felt. That much, I could remember.

I stride forward, the fog swirling like cyclones behind me. The more I walk, I begin to see something shining, like the pulsing Christmas Star. It twinkled occasionally, giving off a reddish color.

“Hello?!”

As I approached the twinkling, a revelation deluged me.

There, what appeared to be a hologram version of myself and my best friend, Sam, stood back-to-back of each other with our arms crossed. It was a glimpse into my past, the day I lost him. Sam’s glare is even more infuriating than mine is. Sam, the only friend I ever had. The only person I considered family outside of mine. A red light beamed over the moment frozen in time. It was ugly to picture it in motion. I remember that...that was only like a month ago. A few days after I won that drawing. Didn't expect to win...we didn’t talk very much anymore then. I guess...maybe I should’ve shared a little of my prize. That was a lot of money. He helped me...with a lot in my life. Kept it all to myself though...how selfish I was. How mean I was to him.

I reached forward to try and touch the hologram, but my hand passed right through. The memory suddenly disintegrated. It was gone, but off in the distance, another light appeared. It was as if the holograms were leading me towards something...revealing more of what I struggled to realize.

With each blistering step, I thought about that day. It was the first drop of negative emotion I’ve felt in a long, long time as memories came inundating back to me. I dropped Sam because I allowed myself to be buried in my own egotistical happiness. It was all about me. The world revolved around me. But reality, of course, says that’s not true. The world has never revolved around one ignorant man like me.

The next hologram left me stunned. There, I stood holding my phone, smiling the biggest I’ve ever seen myself. Was I really that happy? This was after I let Sam go and I was happy? It was embarrassing, but I remembered that too - showing selfies of me and my expensive toys on social media. All that mattered was the likes. Those sweet likes. Something I thought was the key to becoming more popular in today’s world.

That just reminds me. I got the nerve to open my notebook and look at the things I wrote. Thoughts that dated back to the beginning of high school filled the front pages, when I wasn’t immensely popular, let alone, not liked. But that was also the time I made a few friends and learned a lot about myself. I was a creative genius, coming up with stories and sharing them with my friends. Then slowly, they perished, up to my early days of college, when I won that surprise pot of cash. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore; looking through that notebook then comparing me stuck on that phone, making videos, making thousands off of views...just for being the douche that I was. I think I get it now. I messed up. But if I’m here, on what level did I mess up?

The hologram in front of me vanished but I kept walking. My feet hurt so much at that point that I reached down to untie my shoes and leave them behind. The ground felt soft underneath my socks, almost like the texture of memory foam.

A new hologram popped up just ahead. As I approached this one, my pace slowed.

In the image in front of me, I lie in my bed, still in that perfect suit. Why was I dressed like that? A date with myself? Everyone I ever knew, everyone I used to care about, my family, my friends; looked down on me with overstretched arms from above, choking me until my face was purple. The many hands made it look as if my neck was broken. My notebook was clutched in my right palm and my eyes were closed; an ugly scowl on my face, like I was having a bad dream.

I recognize my mother. She stares at me blankly with foggy eyes cloudier than a bathroom mirror after a hot shower. Despite her blindness, I had the impression that she could smell my toxic soul as I lay there on that bed. I forgot about her...never answered calls...never went over to care for her.

My little brother, Charles, appeared starved and thin, crying in anguish. His skin is all dirty and I saw cuts on his arms. Mom probably couldn’t care for him after I left, who knows what happened to him. I sense his disappointment in me, at my selfish happiness.

Finally, Sam, my greatest friend, comes into view. He looks defeated somehow, hopeless with a tear falling from his eye to roll quietly down one cheek. I have never seen him cry. His disappointment in me equaled Charles’ but I never guessed because he held it all inside. I should have known he was upset, just like everyone else.

I dropped to my knees and let the notebook cascade out of my hand. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. Seems I have gotten what I deserved. How could I leave all these people behind?

“Because of what you desired,” a hulking voice growled above me.

I look up and gasp at the giant, horned skeleton looking down. It was a man, but his entire body was covered in animal skin, similar to what Indians wore. The shape of the skull reminded me of a bull, making me wonder if this was man or a beast.

“What is this place?” I ask.

The skull man nodded. “It’s to show you the damage you’ve caused...what happens when you embrace evil and use it for your own gain. You’ve lost something in you, Mason. What happened to you?”

“Are you God? Satan? Who are you?”

“I am your voice of morality, Mason. My physical appearance does not matter...I’m simply an entity of your mind. Why I look like this is what you choose to make me appear...you’ve left me for dead...forgotten. You had no use for me anymore...you’ve embraced the other side. What you’ve seen is what you know...you just choose to repress it.”

“Am I dead? Is it too late for me to go back and fix any of this?”

“I don’t know. That’s up for you to find out. Maybe this is hell, you just don’t know it yet. And if it is, could you ask the devil for another chance? I could be lying to you and I am the devil, but I’m not going to tell you that. Could you go back to the beginning of your fall and start again?”

Snap.

My eyes flutter open. I sit up and look around, taking in the familiarity of my bedroom. The dirty clothes on the floor, my messy desk, right down to my chest full of random things standing next to my door, all exactly as I remember. It was a dream, I think. One I have had more than once. Or was it? How many times have I awoken to see the same clothes, the same position of my chair, the exact mess on the top of my desk? I have lived this day. Many times, already. I think I’m going mad, doing the same thing over and over again. It makes no sense. If I close my eyes, will I live it again? The same as before? I have to change it. I must. I have learned my lesson. This time, I’ll get it right. It won’t happen again. But as my eyes start to close, a familiar voice whispers in my head. The loop will always win. This is me rotting in hell.