Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

All Rights Reserved ©



The house was a fun change in my routine in hell. But when the experience was over, I got back to what I had been doing since I had gotten in my place of damnation: I walked. I walked ’till I got tired, but stopped before something happened to my feet. I looked around and I was used to everything I’d seen. A mix of everything and nothing. I wanted to get somewhere, I just didn’t know where. I needed a GPS or, at least, a map.

I began to look for it. Tried to talk to people, to the condemned, but no one answered. Everyone was too busy being suspicious of me to answer. I can’t blame them, being in hell is natural to think anyone is a demon who’ll punish you. Specially if they don’t know you, maybe when I’m no longer new here I’ll begin to have more contact with everyone.

Hell has rules, and I need to figure them out. I need to figure where to find a house, how do I establish myself as a citizen. I also need to learn how to move, need to understand the geography of hell. I also need clothes and a portable fan. I need a lot of things to make my life easier. I smile. The smile turns into laughter. I must sound crazy, but who wouldn’t, being in hell, be thinking about making life easier?

Little by little I stop thinking my situation is funny. I dry off me tears and pull myself together. I take a deep breath and look around. Some children are looking at me, pointing at me and laughing. I don’t feel bad, I understand them. I would do the same, if I was with them. After all, what they’re seeing is a person (I think I’m old enough to fit in the “man” category, but I can’t see myself as a man in a mature sense) who is naked, crying laughing for any reason, except madness. Their laughter and pointing are forgivable. I smile at them and wave, they wave back. We move on with our lives.

I know what I need to do to improve my life, now I just need to prioritize. I need to figure out what I have to do first and begin with that.

Clothes could be priority number one, but then I remember the heat. I think about where I could find a fan, but I realize I have no idea. That’s when the real priority shows itself: I need a map. As soon as I establish my geographical knowledge as maximum priority, out of the blue, just like the welcome sign, the counter and the concert, a giant building turns up, with the sign: Information Center.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.