If having super-powers at the admission counter (which it’s curious, ’cause they just manifested themselves again now) helped pass the time, they didn’t help at all now. No conversation was useful as entertainment, everyone was talking about things I already knew. Both about the reason for them being there and the punishments. I had already heard people say it was a mistake for them to be there, and, apparently, most of the lines were about that. People who were at the Information Center to show they deserved to be in heaven, or to find out why they were in hell. And I had already experienced first hand the punishments they described, the ones I didn’t I could imagine, ’cause I had been to similar stuff.
I’m sure if the concept of time existed, I’d be under the impression I’d waited a long, long, long time. And there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t listen to other people’s lives, people around me weren’t too willing to talk (and I was never very good at starting conversations), also, there was nothing to read, not even an old TV with a show no one watches was available. All there was were me and my thoughts. And in my thoughts there was just her.
I could only think about what had happened, and how she had picked me from so many. I could only remember how perfect she was, and how she didn’t care about the crime I’d committed. Because it was a crime what I had done, she deserved my best. She deserved to be happy and I couldn’t make her happy. She had chosen me, made me feel special and pulled me out of a dry period I prefer not to remember of how long, and all I had given her in return was a few miserable seconds.
That thought made me think about an old friend, I hadn’t thought about her since I arrived in hell. And yes, I can see the irony of it. I was depressed again, I had gotten back to be what I was in life. All because I hadn’t been good enough for the best thing that had ever happened in my life, probably in my death too.
I held back the tears for a moment, but after tuning into my parents’ feelings and remembering what I’d done to myself and to them, I couldn’t control myself. I cried in a way I hadn’t in a long time. I cried so much I almost missed my window, fortunately, the lady who was by my side (and kept looking at my password and who knows what else, ’cause I was naked) told me my number had been called twice. I dried off my eyes and thanked her, looked for the counter and gave my number.
And I also see the irony of using a piece of paper in a place I had been made fun of for mentioning the idea of using an analogical and physical map, in other words, a map made of paper.
The demon who received me was translucent. I could see his shape, but I could also see what was behind him. He seemed watery. He didn’t have a humanoid shape, actually, he didn’t have a defined shape. Some times he looked like a ball, others he looked like a square and after some time he didn’t look like anything I could recognize. What caught my attention the most was the way the changed between a three-dimensional shape and a bi-dimensional one.
What do you want? – His voice indicated he was tired and couldn’t take it anymore.
A map. – I said. – No, a GPS. – I corrected myself.
To know where I’m going.
You’re new here?
I think I am… - I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but I felt I was new. – Yes!
The demon (and I just call it demon ’cause it’s impossible to identify the gender, and since my mother tongue is sexist, it’s common to refer to individuals of an unknown sex in masculine pronouns) gave me an eleven inch apparatus, all black, no brand. I kind of expected a brand, for some reason I thought hell could be a shareholder in the “real” world, strapped to a belt. I thanked for the belt, not having to carry the GPS around was more practical.
Even before I thanked him, the demon was already making gestures for me to get up, as soon as I left the chair he closed his window. A pane of white shining marble fell behind the window that separated me from the demonic employee. I understood why he was so fed up. I left the building looking at my GPS. I went downstairs and as soon as I stepped on the floor, the Information Center disappeared. That was unexpected, but not surprising. I didn’t care. Everything was going to be ok now I had a GPS.