Purgatory | By: Joey Sommers | | Category: Short Story - Fantasy Bookmark and Share


By Joey Sommers

I'm telling you this story to forewarn you. I guess in a way a person couldn’t be forewarned of this. But if this does happen to you, you’ll at least know what is happening.

It was a handful of years ago, at least. My wife Alex and I both climbed into bed. We briefly told the other how much we love them. But that was always never enough for me. I would always wait till she fell asleep, then just observe her. I felt so lucky to have her. I had no idea why she loved me like she did. Her breath taking beauty could take any man it wanted, but it wanted me. Our love for each other was unmatched by anything on Earth. I soon was arrested by sleep.
They say that a dream can seem to last only minutes, while its actually lasting hours and hours. And vise versa. The dream I had that night lasted merely seconds. I had dreamt of darkness, everything horror offers and more. I saw the inside of a sort of seventeenth century courthouse. It looked like it should have been condemned. There was one beam of sunlight shining through a window. Casting haunting apparitions on the walls. This was all covered in what I hope was spider webs, though I saw no spiders. There were holes in most every wall. I heard loud voices. Screaming voices. Sentencing death to innocent people. Theses sentences were certainly not of our time. I heard crowds of people urging the deaths of these harmless convicts. I heard the deafening boom of what could only be a judge’s trademark. Everyone grew to an eerie silence. My fear of a verdict to death came true. And I soon awoke.
I awoke in Alex’s arms. I didn’t tell her about my dream. We both got ready for work. I hurried down the stairs to make my way out the door, into my car, and off to my office. I kissed Alex goodbye and continued my exit. I heard the phone ring in my office as I was running to be on time. It was police. They said that there had been an accident. Someone had died they told me. “Alex… your wife, she’s been in a car accident, she didn’t survive.” At first, I didn’t believe him. But when I met him at the police station I knew this no joke. She was dead… for the rest of my life.
I was told to go home for the day. When I got home I saw a note next to the coffeepot where I would surely see it. It read: Jason- I know I may not say it a lot, or enough, but I love you. With all my heart and soul. I hope you always know that. – Love Alex. I was inconsolable! That note pushed me over the edge of what used to be sanity. I couldn’t stay in that house. I ran to the front door. Seemingly simultaneously the phone rang. I hesitated to answer it. But I did. It was a man. He had a powerful voice. A voice that gives you immediate trust shortly after listening to him. He knew of my wife’s death. He told me he knew me, but I didn’t know him. He said he had visited me in a dream before. I went along with it even though I didn’t believe him. But then he told me he would come to my home and that there was something very important he needed to tell me. And then he arrived on my doorstep, almost instantly.
He walked into my house and sat down, like he lived there. He told me about my dream last night. He said it wasn’t a dream. He told me it was my conviction. And that I was living my sentence. And then he soon became part of nothingness. I tried to figure out what he was saying. Conviction? What did I do? What was my sentence?
I walked out my front door. The same man that had confused me just recently stood in the middle of the street. He told me to follow him. I did. We walked into the house across the street from mine. It was set up exactly like my so-called dream I had last night. The same amount of light. Same amount of cob webs. Everything! He told me to keep following him. I trailed him to the outside of a door in the back of the courthouse. It was strangely clean. Among all the dirt and rotted wood, it stood strong and healthily untainted. I turned the knob to the right. The door opened into my bedroom. I saw my wife holding me in her arms as I slept. Then I saw a black figure. It was a robber, no doubt in my mind. I saw him perched over Alex. He seemed to have no interest in my wife. He moved over to me. Standing over me like an animal over its dyeing prey, I saw him draw a knife. He brought it closer to my throat. And then, I saw myself being killed. My wife was covered in blood… my blood! When he saw that I was dead, he left.
I turned to the mysterious man for an explanation. He told me I never woke up from last night’s sleep. He said that my sentence, my punishment, was to experience the death of the one person I loved the most. His departure left with no alibi for which I was convicted.
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