NaMo – Hello

“Hello!”  

A light appeared then others till a hallway appeared.  The hallway was lit along the center of the ceiling revealing six doors along the left and right.  Dontarius stood in silence with darkness behind him and the hallway in front of him.  His first step echoed and his next silent.  

“A dream,” Dontarius thought.

A door opens and Dontarius walks forward.  He looks within the entry to see the sliver of a dirty pale carpet, a child’s bed and a familiar dresser.  Upon the dresser stood a young gold covered basketball play, frozen in the final shot of a game.  A golden baseball play stood next to him waiting for the final pitch that wins the game.  

“My room,” Dontarius said aloud.

Dontarius pushed open the door, but stood outside the threshold.  His childhood room stood in front of him.  The posters of musicians and the stuffed animals he called friends.

“Ok, it’s my room.  Other than freaking me out… What purpose does this serve?”  

Another door opened.  The noise of the old hinges spun him around.  He stepped toward the door and then shook as the door to his room slammed shut.  The second open door sat at the end of the hall and on the opposite side.  He stepped toward it then stood silently staring at a red light that surrounded the edges of the door.  He pushed open the doors and could see wood paneling upon the walls and two people dancing to music he barely recognized.  He opened the door farther and recognized the man on the right as his father.  The fedora and over-sized suit coat give it away.  He noticed near a far corner of the room was a small crib with a child inside.  

“I remember this,” he thought.  “I never let them know I caught them dancing.”  

The door closed abruptly and another door opened.  This door was on the opposite side and to the right.  He opened the door to reveal his wedding day.  The ceremony sat between rows of large oak trees.  His father stood off to the left beaming with pride.  The wooden platform they both stood upon was built by the man standing next to it, a small miracle due to the arthritis in his hand.  The small, unfinished wood platform sat them slightly above the crowd.  His wife, in all her splendor,  stood in a pale green ballroom dress waiting for the pastor to speak.  Dontarius smiled.  Tears welled and the door closed.  

“No, stop!” Dontarius shouted as he banged on the door.  Another door opened on the opposite side.  He walked to it slowly dreading the end of her life.  A hotel stood a ways out.  A car, maroon, drove toward the hotel.  Tears began to fall as Dontarius recalled his honeymoon.  

“She wore the worst color pants on the day,” he said loudly.  “She had this obsession with green.”  Dontarius’s smiled but the door closed abruptly and another opened.

The noise of her gasps for air straightened the hair on the back of his neck.  She gasp again and Dontarius rushed to the door and stepped in.  The bedroom was laid out in front of him.  The bed sat in the center of the room with the dresser on the right, the large sliding door behind the bad and another dresser on the right.  A large man stood over his wife as he strangled her to death.

“Stop!  Stop now!”  Dontarius shouted and rushed into the room.  A large kitchen knife sat upon a dresser to his left.  Dontarius grabbed the knife and thrust it into the back of the large man.  He pulled the knife and stabbed him again.  Blood covered his hands.  With the man struggling for life upon the floor Dontarius stood and looked over his wife.  She was already pale and life had left her.  She laid motionless on the bed and he struggled to figure out his next move.

“Rebecca, please,” Dontarius begged.  “Please don’t die again.”  

Dontarius sobbed as he relived the moment Rebecca died.  He waited to see her spirit rise but it didn’t.  Rebecca’s body sat dormant.  The body of the large man lay at his feet.  His hooded masked soaked in blood.

“Who are you?”  Dontarius asked.  He then bent down and pulled the hood from the large man’s head.  The man has a beard along the sides of his face then cut sharply near the bottom of a thick chin.  He was overweight and his eyes did not yet have the callous, white film characterized by the recently dead.  They were blue and stared up.  

Dontarius stepped back as the man stood slowly.  He took off his dark colored shirt and wrapped it over the wound in his shoulder.  The man then stepped around the bed, opened the back door and stepped outside.

The train approached from the left side.  The light above the engine lit up the trees and the fields behind his house.  Dontarius stood at the doorway when the white light overwhelmed him and the memories disappeared.  

The world reappeared in front of Dontarius as he blinked heavy lids.  His arms felt numb and his legs ached.  Daylight rushed in from a large hole in the forest canopy revealing the ground beneath him and the tree Dontarius was tied too.  

“What is going on?”  Dontarius’s voice was raspy, he cleared it.  “I am tired of this world already.”  

“I advise silence, my friend.”  

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