Soul Chains

Waves of Pity

As jealousy wrenched at my lonely heart

I pulled back to free my golden chart

Then envy, friend of the jealous

Made me see fields of green

I couldn't help but want

What came to others too easily

I saw tones of red in silver waves

And they crashed my head upon the rocks

When I woke, my breath had forsaken me

I had nearly drowned, no ship to save me

Then, on that moonless twilight

Shining light cascaded through the dark

~Sammy's Diary

As I held the mystery letter in my gloved hands, I wanted to run. I kept reading it though, Dr. Mortimer egging me on. It was from the one college I had neglected to apply to, the one nobody thought even existed. I knew better, though. And, apparently, so did they.

"Come on, tell them," said Dr. Mortimer happily, "Tell them who it's from!"

"Okay, okay," I thought back, "I suppose I should."

The letter was from the one and only College of Purgatory. It was only for the most brilliant of students, and these were typically angels. I knew I could have applied there, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to go there at all. I figured that even though I was probably insane from talking to Dr. Mortimer (Hey!), seeing dead people and angels would make it much, much worse. But, here was the acceptance letter, staring me in the face. I patted my head to wake Dr. Mortimer.

"Hey, buddy? When did you last take control of my hands?"

"Well, when you were applying to the colleges. I wanted to make sure you got all of them," he responded casually.

I searched for gaps in my memory, and he was right. It had to have been him who applied to Purgatory College, not me. Well, essentially, yes, it was me, but he was in control. Just like he always is, during the most important decisions of my life. Not that I had actually made many important decisions in my short lifetime.

"But... Purgatory College? You wanted me to go there?"

If he had been in front of me, his cheeks would have been burning red, in anger or embarrassment, I'm not sure. Waves of sheepishness rolled off of him.

"I....we.....you," he stuttered nervously. This was totally unlike him. His speech was usually so clear and concise, seeing as they were just thoughts.

"Just spit it out," I thought bitterly, somehow knowing exactly what he would say.

"I....well.... that's where I'm from," he said in a very defeated tone of voice.

Had anyone been looking at me at the time, they would have seen a bewildering mix of a a deep frown and a creepy smile inching up my face. They would have thought that there were two souls in one body, each one struggling to portray their emotions. If they had thought that, they would have been quite correct. I noticed Mortimer using my facial muscles, so I handed over the metaphorical reigns to him for a while. I needed time to think about what he had just said. If he was telling the truth, which he had to be, he had never lied to me before, that meant I wasn't crazy. It meant that Dr. Mortimer was a real soul, stuck in my body for however long he's been stuck. The notion was mad, completely insane. I, however, had certainly seen my fair share of insane sights, all of them completely true.

He got up, and, shedding the jacket I always wear, he went over to my desk. He carefully examined the letter I had received, and sighed. He wasn't ready to go back there yet. Not after his exile.