Hall of Infinite Doors
Jane walked into the room. She was wearing a pink dress. It was very old and torn in several places. Her graying once blonde hair was tangled and contained various pieces of debris and one could tell that she cared very little for her appearance. She was angry, not angry at any particular person, object or idea
simply filled with a feeling of anger. She was ready to vent that anger onto the first person she encountered. That person was Bob. Bob was sitting on an oak rocking chair rocking back and forth muttering to himself at an inaudible tone. Jane looked at him and said in her shrill inconsistent voice said, "Bob why the hell aren't you dead?"
Bob continued muttering to himself and rocking for a solid minute and then responded in a slow sedated monotone, "I am dead. We are all dead on the inside. Why else would we be here?"
Jane grew even more angry seeing that she was not causing Bob any distress and she said, "Bob why the hell are you still rocking in that chair? Don't you realize that rocking in a chair is for women?"
Bob continued to rock and took a half a minute in deep reflection. He seemed to be contemplating what Jane was saying but he was really in another place, far far away. He opened his mouth again and in the same sedated montone said "I do not care what you think of me or what anyone thinks. This life has ended, I am a lifeless shell. There is nothing here for me. Why should I take heed to your words?"
At this point Jane's anger had grown into a rage and she said "I'd kill you myself if I had the means Bob. I hate you. You don't know how much I hate you! You cannot comprehend my hatred!"
Bob's rocking suddenly stopped and without his usual moment for reflection he replied, "Hidden in these walls are the ears of the damned, the ears of the blind, the ears of those who wait and listen but never act. They hear what you say and they disapprove. They disapprove of everything that you say because they disapprove of you as a person. They hate anything that you produce merely because you have produced it. They are waiting, biding their time until they can get you. They have already started you know, just look at yourself, look at what they have done to you. You are a shell of your former self, like me. Soon there will be nothing left of us and we shall be planted into cold earth. I do not fear this day because I have accepted the end. Have you accepted the end Jane?"
Jane's anger was suddenly transformed into sorrow and she collapsed into a ball on the floor and began sobbing. Once she had composed herself enough to respond she said "Why are we here Bob why have they put us here, what did we do to deserve this?"
Bob resumed rocking in his chair and said robotically like the response had been prepared and programmed with in him long ago, "There is no such thing as justice. We do not get what we deserve, the word deserve is nothing more than meaningless nonsense. Everything simply happens; there is no cause, no purpose. There is no good, no evil, all that exists is the illusion of luck. We are the unlucky ones Jane. We are the ones whose illusion of luck was shattered and fell to the gutters of society. We have simply been corralled here by the turbulent chaotic winds of the cosmos and here we shall rot until your bodies give up entirely."
Jane continued sobbing and could not formulate a response for a long while. Bob started muttering to himself again and rocking back and forth. What seemed like an eternity passed before Jane was finally finished sobbing and she looked to Bob and said, "Help me help me you old fool. No one else will help me, why can't you help me."
"There is nothing left to help," Bob replied. "That is why we are here. We are beyond help."
"You can help me though they can help me. They all can help us. They hold the keys. You hold the keys. Everyone holds the keys besides me. I am the only one without the keys. I'm the only one who is hopeless. You all don't want to help me. You laugh at me you think this is funny. This is all one big joke to anyone." Jane gets up, and moves her face really close to Bob's and then shrieks, "WELL IT IS MY LIFE! It is MINE Bob and I don't want to be a joke anymore. Please help me!"
Bob, still showing no emotion, reiterated, "You are beyond help. You cannot be helped. It is impossible. Why must you continue to ask for something you cannot be given? There is no conspiracy, there is nothing. You are simply dead, dead on the inside and waiting to expire. You were without hope the moment you were born. This is simply the climax, an amalgamation of many failures. It must be pretty disappointing. Did you expect something more?"
Jane retracted her face and sat down on the floor. Indian style she began rocking back and forth and talking in the voice of a little girl in a quickened tempo, almost unnaturally quickened. "I had hope. I was not always like this. I had hope when I was young. That was a long time ago.
Bob continued muttering to himself and rocking for a solid minute and then responded in a slow sedated monotone, "I am dead. We are all dead on the inside. Why else would we be here?"
Jane grew even more angry seeing that she was not causing Bob any distress and she said, "Bob why the hell are you still rocking in that chair? Don't you realize that rocking in a chair is for women?"
Bob continued to rock and took a half a minute in deep reflection. He seemed to be contemplating what Jane was saying but he was really in another place, far far away. He opened his mouth again and in the same sedated montone said "I do not care what you think of me or what anyone thinks. This life has ended, I am a lifeless shell. There is nothing here for me. Why should I take heed to your words?"
At this point Jane's anger had grown into a rage and she said "I'd kill you myself if I had the means Bob. I hate you. You don't know how much I hate you! You cannot comprehend my hatred!"
Bob's rocking suddenly stopped and without his usual moment for reflection he replied, "Hidden in these walls are the ears of the damned, the ears of the blind, the ears of those who wait and listen but never act. They hear what you say and they disapprove. They disapprove of everything that you say because they disapprove of you as a person. They hate anything that you produce merely because you have produced it. They are waiting, biding their time until they can get you. They have already started you know, just look at yourself, look at what they have done to you. You are a shell of your former self, like me. Soon there will be nothing left of us and we shall be planted into cold earth. I do not fear this day because I have accepted the end. Have you accepted the end Jane?"
Jane's anger was suddenly transformed into sorrow and she collapsed into a ball on the floor and began sobbing. Once she had composed herself enough to respond she said "Why are we here Bob why have they put us here, what did we do to deserve this?"
Bob resumed rocking in his chair and said robotically like the response had been prepared and programmed with in him long ago, "There is no such thing as justice. We do not get what we deserve, the word deserve is nothing more than meaningless nonsense. Everything simply happens; there is no cause, no purpose. There is no good, no evil, all that exists is the illusion of luck. We are the unlucky ones Jane. We are the ones whose illusion of luck was shattered and fell to the gutters of society. We have simply been corralled here by the turbulent chaotic winds of the cosmos and here we shall rot until your bodies give up entirely."
Jane continued sobbing and could not formulate a response for a long while. Bob started muttering to himself again and rocking back and forth. What seemed like an eternity passed before Jane was finally finished sobbing and she looked to Bob and said, "Help me help me you old fool. No one else will help me, why can't you help me."
"There is nothing left to help," Bob replied. "That is why we are here. We are beyond help."
"You can help me though they can help me. They all can help us. They hold the keys. You hold the keys. Everyone holds the keys besides me. I am the only one without the keys. I'm the only one who is hopeless. You all don't want to help me. You laugh at me you think this is funny. This is all one big joke to anyone." Jane gets up, and moves her face really close to Bob's and then shrieks, "WELL IT IS MY LIFE! It is MINE Bob and I don't want to be a joke anymore. Please help me!"
Bob, still showing no emotion, reiterated, "You are beyond help. You cannot be helped. It is impossible. Why must you continue to ask for something you cannot be given? There is no conspiracy, there is nothing. You are simply dead, dead on the inside and waiting to expire. You were without hope the moment you were born. This is simply the climax, an amalgamation of many failures. It must be pretty disappointing. Did you expect something more?"
Jane retracted her face and sat down on the floor. Indian style she began rocking back and forth and talking in the voice of a little girl in a quickened tempo, almost unnaturally quickened. "I had hope. I was not always like this. I had hope when I was young. That was a long time ago.