I walk down the road, the pavement glistening in the deepening twilight. Lost in thought, my steps grow slower and slower until I stop, in the middle of the road. Where am I? I shake my head. I dont know this place. There are cobwebs in my mind. The circuitry is poorly wired in my mind.
 
There is noone about, just a few shabby looking wood-framed homes. The trees menace me, with their long twisted arms and reaching fingers. I start running, not knowing where I am going, just to get away.

The grass, long and brown, grabs at my legs, so I run for the pavement. I look down and see the names of the dead etched in the pavement. How can I be running on the faces of tombstones? It is not possible.
Ragged of breath, I stop and close my eyes. I hear a clawing and scratching and looking down, see the pavement move, as if something is pushing up from beneath the ground. I jump up to avoid the hands that I see reaching around the stones for my feet.
The stench rising up to assail my nostrils is indescribable, worse than rotting garbage or roadkill. 

Steam hisses up at me from the gaps in the ground. I hear fearsome groans and hideous laughter. I hear my name being called out over and over again.

I clutch my silver locket and begin running again. I choose the grass over the pavement. The fingers of grass cut my feet and legs but cannot lay hold of me or stop me. I see my friend in the distance and run towards him, but the faster I run, the further he is from me. His smile is sad.  

I cannot remember anything, where am I? Hell, who am i? How did i come to this place, to this moment? I hear the speeding wheels of a car and hope briefly lights up my spirit. The black Mercedes screeches to a halt. The back door creaks open yet noone is there.
I climb inside. My fear pushes me to do this.
The door slams shut, the locks pop and I feel the engines rev up and the car speeds off. 

I sink back into the leather and close my eyes. Suddenly, I sense i am not alone, and open my eyes. I catch a glimpse of the driver in the rear-view mirror.

He looks harmless enough. "Who are you" i ask him. He leers at me and i begin to feel fear overwhelm me. "Your time has come," he said. "I will accompany you to your destiny," he remarked casually, a hard-steeled look in his eyes.

I wrestle with the door handles but I am not surprised to find I cannot open them. A great sigh rushes out of me, and i give up. I stare out of the window.

My surprise was great to see my life rushing by me. My birth, my childhood, every moment as if it were a motion picture. In my fascination, i stared at everything. I laughed at seeing my grandma playing games with me in her yard, and then sobered as i realized she had been dead for twenty years. I saw myself playing in the alleyway with my brother and sister using the lids of garbage cans for shields as we played war.

I watched my daddy pick up the eight packs of bottles under his arms four at a time like he always did. I saw him toss me in the air  on his way to work in the snow to "fight the elephants."

I saw me at the age of ten holding Grandpa's hand going to his Catholic church, being told by him not to genuflect or partake of the wine and wafers because i was a heathen for being raised out of the Church. These images made me cry and laugh.
I watched Camden Park Amusement go by as I  sat in the car, not stopping as mom and dad had not stopped so many times.

I saw me and my brother and sister stealing pennies from mom's stash and creeping down to the candy store when she was working at the bar. I watched us lie to her about it as well.

I watched myself get drunk and go to bed at Charlie's house and detachedly observed how Alan waited til the house was slumbering before slipping in my bedroom to force himself upon me. I cried rivers as the realit of the unreality forced itself upon me.  I shuddered as i realised I could feel his hands on me, as the memory played itself out.

I watched myself pop speeders to wake up and go to the bar and drink to come down. I watched myself go to my broadcast journalism class and flirt with my professor. 

I saw the confrontation with my roommate at the job at the laundry over me not giving her money for her coke habit. I remembered paying the phone and cable bills instead of giving her the cash. Funny, how i hadnt realised how she had been doing drugs right under my nose. She had gotten sick many times from eating spoiled food because her sense of smell had been destroyed line by line.

The days passed one after another. My courtship drunk on maddog, racing down Rt 41 at over 100 miles an hour in my Monte Carlo, my affair with a trucker, every damning memory replacing every sweet memory associated with my childhood. 

I hear laughter from the front seat. "You knew this day would come and here it is,"  he said in a loud, grating voice. I watched his face morph into a molten, livid facade. His skull was bent and misshapen. Coals glowed where his eyes had been.
The car slowed and finally stopped. "GET OUT NOW!" he growled at me.

The night had fallen and I feared to get out, although I feared to stay where i was at. He was livid at my slowness. "GET OUT!!!" he screamed. "This is your destination!" 

I hesitantly got out of the car, the doors having opened on their own.  With great trepidation and regrets assailing me, I stepped out into the street. I turned away for a second, and the Mercedes had vanished.

The first thing I noticed was the chirping of the birds, and the sweet smell of the crisp Autumn air. In front of me was my small white brick house. Smoke curled up lazily and I saw my cats in the window. 

I realized I had been brought back to live out my hell here on earth. The trip had brought all my memories to the forefront of my thoughts. The holes were gone and I was faced with the loss of innocence and goodness.

It would have been far kinder to have the cloud remain. Damned by my memories! This is the hell. I am beyond redemption. I sob as I realize I deserve my punishment. 

I step in the house and my husband awaits me, his arms crossed with a scowl on his face. "Come here bitch! Ill teach you to be late!" he screamed in my face, as he knocked me down and began kicking me in the stomach.

Falling to the floor, I hear someone screaming unrestrainedly. I didnt know it was me.

Sherry Gilles  ©1998 November 2