I stood in an all white room with two white chair and a white television with a white cord that was attached to the TV and had some weird plug on the other side of it. I stood looking around at the empty picture frames with white in the middle that were made of white wood. I looked like I normally looked, but my clothes were all white and I was glowing and almost see-through. Like I was transparent.
About a minnute later, I was joined by a tall white man with brown hair and green eyes and a kind face with a sad expression on it. He was this, but healthy looking.
"Jacob Marks?" he asked me.
"Yes," I said back with a hint of confusion in my voice.
"Please sit," he said, gesturing to the chair in the corner. "Allow me to introduce myself."
"Please do," I said as he sat in the chair next to mine.
"I am God."
I didn't mean to be rude, but did this guy couldn't really think I believed him. Right?
I snorted and he looked at my with his eyebrow raised.
"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked. He was transparent, like me.
"Not really," I said. "But who's to say what's real? What is this place, anyway?"
"This," he said pausing to look around the room. "Is the judgement room. You are here because your time is up, much before your time, however."
"Yeah, okay," I said.
"So what do we do in here?" I asked.
"Judge," he said. And with that, he took a small white device out of his pocket. It looked like a small video camera. He hooked it up to the television and sat back down and looked at me.
"Now here comes the good part," he said as he looked at the TV.
An image flashed on the screen of me when I was about seven years old and I was on the playground at my elementary school. Another kid about my same age appeared on the screen. I was walking towards him. He had red hair, pale skin, green eyes, freckles, and a funny Irish accent. I remembered him well. Patrick Doyle.
He was a new kid at the school who moved from Ireland. He spoke with a stupid accent and always had that stupid happy look on his face. I hated him immediately.
The video showed me standing next to him. I was telling him about what a fag he was. He looked up at me with a hurt expression. I could see the uncaring look on his face. I watched as a littler version of me shoved him on the ground, kicked sand in his face, called him a nerd, then walked away. I was watching the younger version of me smirk at my acts. I could feel the current me smirking now.
The image of me turned to a me at seventeen and I was with my first real girlfriend. She was crying and screaming at me. Another girl was behind me with her shirt off looking embarrassed and out of place. My girlfriend Sara had just caught me with her. Sara was screaming at me, and was screaming at the other girl. She was walking towards her. I grabbed Sara by the arms and was shaking her. Her face turned to horror and she was crying more now. I was screaming at her now. I pushed her onto the ground in the parking lot. I took the other girl by the hand (who's name I can't remember and probably didn't then, either) and brought her to my car with me. I handed her her shirt and we drove off leaving Sara in a mess on the ground, crying.
I could see the uncaring look on my face then, and even now, I didn't care.
The image now was me at about 25 when I was at my mother's house. My father died about two weeks before. She was crying over him. He was only fifty. He was an ass. I guess like me. Maybe that's why I hated him so much. I got fed up with hearing and watching her cry. I told her to shut the fuck up. She looked stunned. I left her there, and I haven't seen her since. We haven't spoken since. It still doesn't hurt.
The next couple images were ones of me fighting with strangers, and at the time I thought I was so justified. Then, there were images of me sleeping with many, many girls who just thought I was the coolest thing until I told them I never wantd anything to do with them.
The screen turned back and "God" just looked me dead in the face.
"Well, how do you feel about that?" he asked me.
"I don't," I simply responded.
:I'm not going to lie to you, Jason. You're an asshole. One of the most uncaring, unsympathetic people I've ever met. And now here you are in the room with me, telling me you have no regrets?"
"Pretty much."
"Well, I guess I've made my decision. I'm not one to make this decision, but in your case, I guess there's nothing else I can do."
I raised my eyebrows at him and he took a deep breath.
"You're going to Hell."
And with that, I could feel myslelf falling through air. I didn't know where I was falling, but I could tell I was falling down. I tried to grab ahold of something, anything, but there was nothing. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I couldn't even breathe. I guess this is just the price I pay.
