Hell is yourself (a short story)
Robert felt the sensation of being crushed by an immense weight. Overwhelmed, he resigned to his fate and let go, becoming obliterated into nothingness. Then he awoke. Letting his wrinkled eyelids slowly drift apart, he beheld the morning sunrise filtering through the blinds. He remained in bed unsure whether to attempt to go back to sleep or start his day. He ended up staying in bed for quite some time trying to recollect his dream. Everything seemed different but he had this vague feeling that he has had this dream before. Perhaps many times. In fact he has experienced this reoccurring dream since his childhood. I wont tell you about Roberts childhood and he would approve of my decision as he tends not to recollect it either. He stumbled over his thoughts trying to interpret his dream which was unlike him. After all how can you describe something abstract with words? A cloud passed over the morning sun shading the room. Robert arose out of bed and got dressed trying to forget all the nonsense of his dreams. Thinking too much leads to unpleasant memories after all. Of course their was no reason for him to get dressed as he was long retired and lived alone in the hills of West Virginia. But just in case a visitor happened to arrive at his doorstep, he had best be prepared for company. In reality he hasnt had a visitor in years but his customs comforted him non the less. He never married, never had children or had family left alive. He didnt have a friend in the world and it is possible that the only person who was aware of his existence was the mailman. Robert found most people disagreeable anyway. Although he hated mankind, he would have killed for a friend on this particular day. Most misanthropes are this way. Most can only take refuge inside themselves for so long before they realize they don't even like themselves. They will do anything to escape their own thoughts. Robert turned on the television. With his morning crutch brewing in the kitchen he was at last ready to start his day. But the silly nonsense of his dreams behind he absorbed himself in the news. He is a man of routine and when this routine is disturbed it throws off his whole day. Everyday he wakes up, brews coffee, watches the news, has lunch while listening to Bach or Chopin, reads his books, has dinner, watches more television and then goes to bed around 10 o'clock. For this mornings balanced breakfast he makes eggs, ham, and bacon. So it should come
as no surprise to you that Robert is about to have a stroke. On his way through the hallway breakfast in hand, he felt a general uneasiness and started feeling disoriented. Must be too much coffee on an empty stomach he thought to himself as he eyed his eggs eagerly. At this moment his legs became completely numb as he collapsed on the floor. And then...darkness. I wish I could tell you that this is how poor Robert met his end, but for unknown reasons, by chance, he lived still.
Part 2
Robert was roused awake by a faint scratching noise. Feeling a tickling sensation across his body he opened his eyes in a daze. He noticed it was night time and he was laying flat on this stomach in the hallway. Two feet away from his face was the shattered plate along with his breakfast on the floor. But this was the least of his worries as he noticed rats feasting on the split food much to his dismay. Fucking rats. Even worse he found himself unable to move. He thought about yelling for help but his nearest neighbor was a mile away. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Its going to be okay. Make yourself believe whatever you want as long as it brings you comfort in an uncertain universe. He began to sob. He wondered why did this have to happen to me? Why does it have to end like this? The noises emerging from the rats gorging themselves was becoming unbearable. If only he could move his arm he could drag himself away or at least swat the vermin away. He was powerless, impotent, and in despair over his condition. He began to yell louder than he has ever yelled before, going red in the face and only stopping because of the need for oxygen. The startled rats fled, hesitating only to collect the remaining scraps of food off the floor. Relieved, Robert tried to relax and assess the situation but he could only think of death. Despite all the misery and loneliness, life was still worth living he concluded. He wasn't ready to die but death doesn't wait for us. IF a man lies on his deathbed, sick with regret then he should consider his life a failure. Reflecting back on his life or more specifically the decisions he made during its course, everything seemed so meaningless. He had not become enlightened in his old age. If anything he became more childish and ignorant. What did it all amount to at the end of the road? Ending this way, alone, it just seemed so wrong. His eyes burned with tears as he tried to swallow the knot in his throat. Nothing mattered now. It is only when one is standing on the edge of a cliff when we realize how frightening the jump will be. We avert our glance we death looks us in the eye. We think about things that never were, choices never made, girls never kissed and above all the wish that we could just start over again. There is no worse hell than realizing that you have never lived on your death bed. It just takes the fun out of dying. Robert lay there letting all these thoughts pass through his head sobbing, devoured by sorrow. Our whole lives we suffer and toil building this tower up just to watch it fall. For what? A pat on the head, a reward in the afterlife. We expect god to await us at the finish line with a glass of lemonade. Perhaps our true reward is just the chance, the fleeting chance, to experience life itself. The laughter, the sorrow, and everything in between. Robert would have liked to believe in god but nothing in his life ever gave him a reason to. How easy it must be to live your life knowing you are on the RIGHT path. Believing in god is easy, but without him it is one of the hardest things a man can endure. With no moral standards to compare your life to we are lost in a sea of uncertainty. You are probably thinking that Robert is an atheist preaching shallow hedonism but nothing could be further from the truth. We NEED suffering. Without it how would we know when we are happy? It defines us. We need obstacles to block our path so we can overcome them. Robert thought about Pascals wager. How cowardly. Now would be a convinent time to believe in god but its too late. Tortured by his own mind, its too late he thought to himself. He wished he could just end it now. His thoughts became sluggish and vague as he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Part 3
As soon as Robert opened his eyes he leaped off the floor making a run for the front door. In ecstasy over being able to move again he slammed open the door. It lead nowhere, just a void where the world used to be. At that moment he was jostled to attention by a tap on the floor. He looked down to find one his teeth. Horrified he covered his mouth but it was no use. His teeth fell out like a waterfall, all clinking on the floor. Robert opened his eyes for a second time. He attempted to feel if his teeth were still there but he remained unable to move. He closed his eyes as he knew undeniably he was in hell. Just then he felt an eerie sensation of being watched. He reluctantly open his eyes once again. This time the rats were right in front of his face daring one another to bite first. He bellowed with all his might but the rats remained undisturbed. They could smell his vulnerability, he was a lion with no teeth. They leaped upon him in a frenzy.
