Week 13 Storytelling: Is this Hell?

Image Information: Beginning of losing your soul to hell. Source: SodaHead.com

The girl was dirty. Her hair was matted down and had visible knots; the blonde color almost completely obscured by who knows how many months of dirt. She had blue eyes. They sparkled when she looked at me, glowing with a sort of happiness that only comes when finally things are beginning to work out for the better.

            She was eating so fast. Scarfing down the food that I had put onto her plate almost as soon as I gave it to her. Reveling in it. It hurt looking at her knowing that it must have been a while since she had eaten so well.

            She grabbed for her water and grinned at me right before she took huge gulps from the glass. She had just set the glass back down on the table when her eyes snapped back to mine, suddenly startled and alarmed. My chest ached a little when I saw the betrayal in her eyes. But it didn’t last long. Her eyes started to glaze over and her hands twitched, knocking over the glass, the water dribbling onto the floor.

            After she had passed out, I stood up and began clearing the table. After taking the dishes to the sink, I dug my phone out of my pocket and tried to open the messenger app. My fingers were cold and I struggled to get complete control of them as I tried to type. Eventually though, I managed to type the necessary message out: Deed done. Pick up in 15.

            It was colder in the apartment than I remembered it being. My fingers kind of felt numb. Maybe I needed to put a sweater on or something.

            I looked at the girl again. She looked actually kind of peaceful laying there on the table. Even though she was dirty, I knew that she had to have been one of those perky, perpetually happy girls from high school. I wonder what had happened to her that she ended up here, is some stranger’s apartment trusting them with her safety, with her life. How far had she fallen? How far had I fallen? Taking advantage of her like this. My chest ached again, and I felt a shiver find its way down my spine. My blood kind of felt sluggish. Slow. Cold. I don’t think it was this cold in here earlier.

            There was a knock on the door and I answered it immediately. There was a large man at the door, and he looked me up in down before pushing the door open and stepping inside. I shut the door behind him and he glanced at the girl at my table. Without even glancing back at me, he reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He threw it back at me and stepped towards the girl, pulled her from the chair, threw her over his shoulder, and walked out of my apartment without even giving me another glance.

            I clutched the envelope to my chest and felt that ache again. I shivered.

            Later that night laying in bed under a mound of blankets, I still couldn’t get warm. I felt emptier than I had before and I was so cold. Nothing I did helped. I choked down a sob, and felt a couple of tears slip from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. But something weird was happening. They didn’t fall. They froze on my face, and the tear tracks stung every time I moved. More tears fell from my eyes, but they froze to my eyelashes and I couldn’t do even open my eyes anymore. My lip trembled. Everything was so cold.

Author’s Note:

I read Dante’s inferno this week and I was really inspired by the imagery of the third zone of the ninth circle of hell, Ptolomea. It was striking how betraying a guest was such a horrible sin that your soul immediately goes to hell. You don’t even have to die first. You just become soulless. Frozen in hell and half-alive on Earth.

Bibliography:

Ugolino. Story source: Dante's Divine Comedy, translated by Tony Kline (2002).