Nothing is Perfect Prologue

  Where am I?

  What happened? Why can’t I remember anything? First, I need to calm down. Closing my eyes, I breath inward and hold my breath for about ten seconds. After counting to ten I release the air within me. My grandfather always told me that chaos is the enemy and that panic is their weapon. Being a war veteran, it made sense as to why he would give such advice. Thinking about it now I am grateful for his words.

  Because looking at my surrounding, it’s taking every ounce of strength not to scream at the cost of rupturing my lungs.

  It’s a black void. I think. In my honest opinion my surroundings can easily be described as indescribable. There’s nothing to see, yet I can feel this uneasy swirl of movement. Like the darkness itself is moving and its engulfing every part of my body. It’s suffocating.

  Where the hell I am? Any attempt to move my body is futile. It’s as if my bones are made of lead and my muscles have the strength of loose taffy.

  So, all I can do is wait. Wait in this void with nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to hear. I don’t know how long I can stand being here before madness overtakes me. If anything, I would much prefer death than this hell for much longer.

  “Then congratulations! Your wish has been granted. Son of man your time within your mortal coil is over.”

  A voice. I can hear an ever-present feminine voice. I can hear her but searching for a person within this void is impossible. Wait, I think she just said something important. My time within my mortal coil is over. What does she mean by that?

  “Has mankind become infected with stupidity in the time I wasn’t looking? I said you are dead. Dead! Do you understand foolish boy? You D. I. E. D. That spells died if you could not spell either.”

  The voice is insulting me. Mocking my questions and telling me horrible jokes like I am dead. I can’t be dead! I am alive right now! Now stop telling me these horrible jokes and let me out of this hellhole!

  “You humans all act the same way. Why is it impossible for you accept that you have died. The fact that you are even here alone should be proof enough. But it is fine if you don’t have to believe me. Since you believe me to be a teller of jokes, a jester, then I have a joke for you. I in fact love to tell jokes.”

  The atmosphere within void is beginning the change. The endless black is becoming a deadly violent. A chill fills the air and reaches down my throat and grabs ahold of my spine. If I had full control of my body I would probably be shivering. Whatever joke this mysterious voice wants to tell me, I have feeling it won’t be funny.

  “Son of man, what is your name?”

  My name. She wants to know my name. Is this suppose to be the set up for her joke? I don’t know. I don’t know my name.

  “You don’t know? Of course, you don’t know. The traumatic emotions that come with death always affect the mind in the worse of ways. The memory is the first to go. I do pity you a little. Only a little. If you did remember who you were it would ruin the punchline for my joke.”

  I have amnesia? Are you trying to say that because I died, I can’t remember who I am?

  “Give the boy a prize for having a brain! If I was your mother, I would cry tears of joy that you aren’t the complete disappointment I thought you would be.”

  If what you say is true, then who am I? Stop beating around the bush! Just tell me! Since you know so much, tell me who I am and how I died.

  “Patience, patience. Besides you should know that you don’t have the power to be making any demands. It’s actually cute how you believe that I have to answer any of your questions. But fear not, I am a merciful and generous person. I will continue telling my wonderful joke.”

  I don’t care about your joke!

  “Oh, but I think you do Matthew Smith. It’s a joke I made specifically for you.”

  Matthew Smith. Is that my name? My head begins to throb uncontrollably. I feel pain, unimaginable pain. I want to scream. I want tear at my skull and rip out my own grey matter. What’s happening to me?

  “Regaining your memory. Now the fun can begin. Matthew Smith, you were born in a small town in Arizona. Your father, Edward Smith, was a drug lord pretending to be baker and even owned a small business as a cover. He was very successful, I’m actually surprised you never inherited his ability to succeed, but I digress. Edward then met your mother Sarah, who at the time was training to be a practitioner of medicine, and it was a match made in hell. How beautiful. In the name of love, your father used your mother’s money and body. Eventually this led to your conception. When the chains of commitment threaten to bind Edward, like any foolish man, he ran at the first chance. This led to your mother being penniless and you fatherless.”

  Listening to her is making me sick. I don’t remember any of this. It has to be lies! What she is saying can’t be true. I remember! I remember my mother telling me that dad died in a car accident.

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  “Of course, your mother lied to you boy. Children are so gullible. So easy to fool with lies and misleading truths. In your mother’s case, your father was dead. He was dead to her anyway. Now let me continue with your story. Where was I? Oh yes, you are a bastard. When your father left, your mother took charge of the bakery. Seeing as she no longer had the money for schooling, it was the only thing that she could do to keep the two of you alive. Sarah was depressed beyond belief about this and she took out her frustrations on you. The son of the man that took everything from her. Moving on to your years in preschool…”

  The more she speaks, the more I begin to remember. The more I remember, the more pain I begin to feel. The more pain I feel, the louder she speaks to me. It’s as if this voice is getting some sadistic pleasure from my misery. I want her to stop, but I’m powerless. Is this hell?

  “Pay attention Matthew, I am almost done. Through most of your time in school you were bullied. Then when you retuned home your mother would verbally, emotional, and physically abuse you. There was no light within your pathetic life to be found. Hehe, oops apologize that was rude. Then one day during elementary school you actually made a friend. Good for you! Do you remember the name of this important friend Matthew?”

  Mya. Mya Goodman.

  “That’s right. Mya was your childhood friend. Despite your awkward nature, she accepted you. You loved her and followed her everywhere. The two of you were inseparable. Actually, it was more like she could not be rid of you, but that is just my opinion. All was right with the world as long as you had her by your side. But life is never that simple. High school is a wonderful place if the rumors about your world are meant to be trusted. It was during this time your world began to crumble.”

  Stop! Stop talking! I don’t want to hear anymore! I don’t want to remember!

  “Now, now. Don’t interrupt, I’m getting to the best part. One day after class you could not find your precious Mya anywhere. So, you went to look for her. You looked everywhere, but eventually found her behind the school’s gym. Matthew, do you remember what you saw?”

  No! No, I don’t! I don’t want to remember! Stop talking! I don’t know anything! I don’t remember anything!

  “Please don’t play dumb now. Of course, you remember. It’s something you wish with all your heart to forget. The irony of that memory is that it is something you will always remember. How did it feel I wonder? My understanding of humanity is somewhat lacking. It’s embarrassing to admit. So, I have to ask. How did it feel seeing the woman you loved with one of the boys that had tormented you for years?”

  In that moment when she asked that question, the emotions from that memory flooded my body. Betrayal, hatred, confusion, and rage. So much rage. I couldn’t believe she would do that to me. I thought we promised to always be together.

  “Foolish boy, you weren’t even dating the girl. Whatever, your idiocy is your own. What you did next is far more interesting anyway.”

  What I did next?

  “Yes, the actions you had taken when rage overtook your vision and reason. It was as if you were a different person. An animal you could say. Confronting the boy when he was alone, then screaming your head off about “She’s mine!” and “You will never have her!” It was all quiet amusing to behold. Hehehehe. Then when smashed his face with a steel pipe, it was something I completely did not expect. Hahahaha!”

  I did what? I beat someone with a pipe. No, I didn’t just harm him.

  “You killed him and hid the body. All done with a smile filled with madness on your face. It was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen you give.”

  No, I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to scare him! I wanted to teach him a lesson! It was an accident. I am not a murder!

  “You are more pathetic than I originally thought if you actually believe such words. A kill is a kill, there are no grey areas. What confused me though is why you confessed this sin to your beloved?”

  What did I do? I told Mya?

  “Honestly, if you kept quiet about the act and seriously courted her afterward, she would have been yours. But no, you lost all sense of logic and told her everything. All while stating some crazy nonsense about then being able to always be together. It is no wonder as to why she looked at you as though you were a monster.”

  The image of her horrified eyes pierced my already fragile soul. In that my moment I couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was. Her long silky brown hair. Her skin tanned by the sun and lovable freckles found on her soft cheeks. She was absolutely beautiful, but those eyes told me one thing. That a future with this girl would be impossible.

  “And what did you do when you realized this? You don’t have to answer this time because I will tell you.”

  Shut up! Shut up! Stop talking! Stop talking! Don’t say another word!

  “You…”

  Shut up!

  “In a fit of rage…”

  Shut up! Shut up!

  “Killed her with your own hands.”

  SHUT UP!!!

  “Your thirst for blood was quite unquenchable it seems. Well killing people is like eating potato chips, its impossible to stop after having one. Hahahahah!”

  This feeling. I don’t know what it is. Her laughter. Hearing it grow louder and louder fills me with this feeling. It’s consuming my very existence. Soaking into my bones and corrupting my soul. This venomous feeling.

  “Realizing what you had done, you reflected upon your entire life. Though you didn’t know it, you were abandoned by your father, unwanted by your mother, abused by that same mother, bullied by your peers, and betrayed by the only light held within your life. Then in a fit of rage you extinguished that light forever. You could not live with the guilt and jumped off the highest building you could find. That is your story. The pathetic story of Matthew Smith. Hahahahahha!”

  Despair. If I was to identify the feeling that is currently plaguing me, it would be despair.

  “You wanted to hear a joke Matthew and so I have told one. Your entire life has been nothing but one humongous joke. Is there anything more humorous than that? Hahahahah!”

  The voice speaks, but I no longer care. I’m dead. Nothing matters anymore. Clearly this is hell. This is my hell. The voice I have been hearing is no doubt a demon, if not the devil herself.

  “That’s rude. To call my home your own personal hell is a little uncalled for.”

  If this is not hell, then I don’t know what is.

  “Clearly. I have no doubt there are a lot of things you do not know. This is my domain, not hell.”

  If this is not hell, then why am I here? What are you? The Devil? God?

  “You can call me whatever you like. I do not care, because it does not matter to me. On the matter of why you are here, I can give the answer to that. I want to make a deal with you.”

  A deal? What kind of deal?

  “I’m glad you asked. It’s the kind of deal you where I can give everything you ever wanted. Love. Power. Women. Take your pick it can all be yours.”

  ……. What would I need to do?

  “Simple. I just need you to reincarnate in another world.”