After death

4. Turning points

The darkness and the silence were the deathly combination. Feeling myself left into it again made me realise just how crazy this whole situation was. I was walking, but I couldnt see, I couldnt hear my own heartbeat, in case I even had one. I am dead. I AM DEAD. The words rang through the silence as if I was in my own head.

Reesa told me I had to pass a test. Serpiano told me that the garden was the first step. I am now in the same darkness from which I began after my conversation with Reesa. So does this mean I passed and went ahead, or failed and went back?

I let the thoughts play their unforgiving game, but I couldnt let myself be desperate. After all, my mind is all that I have left.

I continued walking until my foot has stepped on something small and tubular. I picked up the object which glowed through the darkness and looked like a pencil. One that I have seen before.

I took it with me, because holding it into my hands and playing with it would help me pass the time easier.

A couple of steps ahead I found another glowing object on the ground. This time it was a book. Very familiar too. Now my mind finally saw a pattern. I knew those objects werent left there for no reason.

As I expected, a short while later I found a piece of tissue, white with Mickey Mouse in the right lower corner. Then just as before I chose the door, a memory hit me.

It was maybe in the beginning of fall, my second year of primary school. I was 8 years old and I was the new girl. My old school was the victim of a small  fire that occured in one of the classrooms. I later on found out it was because of a kid who brought matches to school and lit up a paper before throwing it into the bin. I heard my parents say the kid was troubled and planned the arson. I tried to convince then it was an accident and we didnt have to change schools, beacuse we had enough classrooms to study in without the burnt one, but they didnt listen. I was really sad to be going to a different school and I needed something familiar and comforting to hold on to. I was too big to take a toy with me. Instead, I took my favourite book: 'Alice in Wonderland'.

One day, I remember I forgot my pencil case at home and I didnt have anything to write with. I was pretty anxious thinking that the teacher is going to notice. One of the girls, Maya Fort saw me desperately looking in my bag for something that I could use, so she gave me her pencil and proposed to be friends with me.

I smiled and took very good care of that pink pencil. Then the class started, I cant tell which, but im sure I was really interested. I wrote into my notebook during the whole time and the things that I liked most, I wrote on my 'Alice in Wonderland' book, because I knew I opened it pretty often and I could see the notes as well.

When the class was over, I wanted to return Maya her pencil, but when I stood up, I stumbled onto the leg of the chair and fell to the floor. Everyone started laughing, even Maya. I didnt know what to do, so I stood up and ran to the bathroom. I took out a tissue and wiped my tears occasionally. I was so disappointed. Maya was supposed to be my friend and I felt betrayed. As a kid, I couldnt understand that she didnt mean to hurt me.

At the age of 8, in a new school, without knowing, I was making a choice. I couldve gotten out of the bathroom, walked back in class, returned the borrowed pencil and pretend nothing happened.  Instead I decided to stay in that bathroom and cry until my parents came after me.

I had them in my hands. The pencil that I borrowed, the book that I once owned and the tissue. Now I had to understand what they were for. I wouldnt say that as a child I did the right thing. Deciding to isolate myself then has influenced a lot my future school life.

I was holding the book and the tissue in one hand and the pencil in the other. They were all living memories of my life as a pupil. I feel like this was maybe the turning point that defined my further relationship with school, but I didnt know it at the time.

I was tired of walking to nowhere so I sat down and let the three things on my lap. I started analysing the game I was playing.

I already know ive moved forward, so I passed the first stage. From back when I was 4 and I chose life, I did the same at different points and ages as well. This was a turning point in a way too. Now I had in front of me another memory that popped up in my head just as suddenly as the first one and, I think, it represents another turning point.

I find it curious that I start seeing my life in perspective, I start understanding how my life worked. Im able now to analyse it all as if I haven't lived it before.

What I dont understand is why do I have to analyse these situations all over again and why do I have to get through with this whole death game. Where am I going? What are the rules? Where is the finish? All good questions that I am asking myself every step of the way, although I know for sure that the answer is only forward.

I lift myself up from the ground, again, not knowing how much time has passed or which direction I came from. All I do is just walk, always. I never find another surface apart from the one under my feet. I never find a light through the dense darkness. So dense, that the objects, even glowing, dont penetrate it enough for me to see clearly.

I turn around at some point, and there they were. A sharpener, a bookshelf and a small hanger floating at the level of my eyes. I knew what they were for. The bookshelf had only one book missing. I had to make a choice again. Which one to put first? I looked one more time at the objects I was holding, took the one I felt right, and confidently put it in its place thinking: Final game, second stage.

START.