Back from the Pit

“Will, William! Oh, thank God!” A muffled voice sounded in my ear. I moaned and rolled to my side. “Thank God we got you back. After we lost communication, we feared the worst. Your body was slowly dying. We did everything we could to keep you alive. Thank God you made it back!”

Justin reached out and grabbed my hand. “No! My wrist!” I screamed, but felt no pain. It was gone. There was no pain anywhere. “My wrist, my body, I was mangled.”

“Try not to move Will, just rest.” Justin assured me. “Pain is a product of the mind. You only thought you were in pain when in reality you couldn’t have felt pain in your comatose state.”

“Thought I was in pain? Justin, let me tell you that what I experienced was most certainly real. The pain I felt, believe me, it was real!”

“I don't doubt your experience. What we perceive or believe we perceive is very real. Have you ever heard of the Phantom Limb Syndrome? Just because we don’t have a body doesn’t mean we don’t feel it.” Justin said.

The room was fuzzy as I laid and stared at the ceiling. "Those flowers." I pointed to a desk that once contained a lush green plant who was now showing signs of dehydration. "You need to water them."

Justin looked over at the plant and then smiled at me. "It's good to have you back, Will."

“Allison ... she was there. I found her but couldn’t save her.” Bitter tears fell in front of everyone. “I failed.” My throat tightened with those two difficult words.

“It’s ok. Will, you did all you could. You did more than anyone could.” Monika rubbed my back and consoled me, as I lost the battle to control my tears. The floodgate of emotion over her death had finally begun to release. Laying in that bed of despair, I sobbed for hours. Monika stayed with me every second. I wouldn’t have had the strength to feel that pain without her. We didn’t speak, she just let me cry. She was a saint.

Later that evening she made me a dinner of dry toast and water. It was the best dinner I had ever tasted. My strength returned to a minimal level. I was glad to be free from that experience but felt tremendous guilt for leaving Allison.

“It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could have done. Don’t put the guilt on your shoulders. It’s too much.” Monika reassured me over and over again.

“I just want to say thank you, Monika. Thank you for being with me.” Monika smiled as she dropped me off at home. Memories and visions of Allison being tortured in the cold and lonely place hammered my soul with every waking second. The thought of her father boiled rage beneath my skin each moment he entered my mind.

The ride home was blurry. I stumbled out of the car; energy drained. Images of rotting teeth flooded my brain just before my mind was about to go blank. Are you kidding me? I crawled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, but don’t remember crawling back. The lights went out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Light started to peek through my window shades. Exhaustion permeated each cell in my body. I had always been a runner, a runner from my deepest emotions. It was catching up to me. My demons were winning. School was impossible. How could anyone focus with so much angst, so much guilt and fear, so much panic on their minds. A psychotic break was bearing down on me. I had to get out. I skipped Biology and went to my spot. I needed to breathe. I'd been coming here since seventh grade. It was my escape when I felt anxious and needed to quiet my panicked brain. The noise from the school generator provided a soothing hum. The two brick walls it hid behind provided solace.

"What the hell." I could see a white smoky vapor rising up from behind the generator. Probably some Outsider smoking between classes. I should rat them out.

"Dr. Z, what are you doing back here?" The white smoky haze vanished.

"Meditating. I like to come back here between sessions. It's peaceful."

"Um, yeah, I like it too. Well, I'll let you be." I turned to leave.

"Please William, stay, this place is just as much yours as it is mine."

"Um, Ok Dr. Z."

"Please, we're not in session, call me John. Feel free to ask me anything."

"I'm guessing that was an accident." I looked down at the wheelchair Dr. Z. sat in.

"Actually, no. I was made an example of. Some people didn't like what I had to say and thought it best to send me a strong message by burning my legs."

"That's awful."

Dr. Z. Nodded in agreement. " It was a long time ago."

“I want to say I'm sorry Dr. Z. I shouldn’t have said those things and acted the way I did.”

“Thank you Will. It takes a lot of strength to say that. I understand. The emotions you've been experiencing are not easy.”

"When I stormed off during our last session, um, it sounded like you said 'I know'."

"You're a Resurrectionist, I know."

"How? How do you know about that?"

"I'm one too."

"Will that happen to me?" I asked, pointing to Dr. Z's wheelchair.

"It depends on the choices you make."

"Did you make bad choices?"

"There are no bad choices if you serve a higher purpose."

"Did you serve a higher purpose?"

Dr. Z. nodded. I was unable to speak. We stood in silence. I never felt comfortable with silence, but Dr. Z. had mastered it. I broke. “Thanks for being patient. Thanks for not pushing me to talk.” Dr. Z. nodded, not breaking from his silence. It was time to stop running. I had to talk about Allison, excruciating pain and all. I needed to face my anger towards her father. My time in hell taught me a lesson about holding onto anger. It’s never good. My demons were not going to get the best of me.

“I think I’m ready, I think I really loved her."

“Say more. You think you loved her. You aren't sure?” Dr. Z. guided me.

“I mean, I miss her so much. I’m so numb. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. All I can see is her. Everywhere, she's with me. Haunting me, stalking. She’s in my mind. When I close my eyes, I see her. When I open them, I feel her. I’m so guilty.”

“Do you blame yourself for her death?”

"Yes." A tear formed in the corner of my eye but I held it back.

“She made a choice, Will. It was nothing you did.”

“That’s the problem. I didn’t do anything. I could have stopped it. What kind of person am I? What kind of monster does that to another human being?"

“How do you think you could have stopped it?”

“By telling her the truth, about my feelings, how much she meant to me.” This time I couldn’t stop the tear from falling.

“You’re not alone. What you're experiencing is common. Survivors of tragic events often feel guilty. Like they should have done something different. The problem is there's no way of knowing that the outcome would have been anything different. You're speculating, Will. This line of thinking can lead to crippling guilt. It can render you paralyzed and unable to move on, unable to heal.”

“It’s so hard.”

“It is hard, Will. It is hard.”

I hung my head, allowing myself to be present in the silence. Allowing myself to feel. “It’s not too late.” Dr. Z. said.

“Not too late for what?”

“To express your love. Love has a way of transcending death.” I nodded with understanding. Allison was still alive. Maybe not physically, but she was alive. If my love could somehow reach her, somehow change her, then maybe, maybe she could be made whole again. The way she used to be.

“There’s a problem though,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Her father, I hate him. The rage is so intense. I can’t even picture him in my mind without the veins in my neck twitching uncontrollably. I feel like my anger is blocking me from expressing love. Because of it, I can’t fully feel love for Allison. Love becomes mental, just a concept, something in my mind but not in my heart.”

Dr. Z. nodded in agreement. “It’s a start Will, it’s a start. By recognizing it, you now have the upper hand. You can now do something about it. Start to break it down, dissolve the anger.”

Dr. Z. listened with a masterful ear and skillfully carved out emotions I never knew were in me. The realization finally came, anger controlled me. Anger towards Mr. Channing, towards Allison for giving up, towards myself for being afraid of being different. I was detached from love, a zombie to it’s healing vibration. It felt awkward, crying like a baby in front of Dr.Z., but the relief that came afterward was divine. It didn’t change the outcome, Allison was still gone, but the biting sting was soothed. Things were going to be ok. I was stronger than my demons. They couldn’t touch me.

"Don't you have a class to get to?"

"I should probably go, huh?" Dr. Z. nodded his agreement. "Do you still do it? Go to hell and rescue lost souls?" I asked.

Dr. Z. gave a quick smirk. "Gotta desk job now."

***

I fell asleep after school, something I never did. It always backfired, leaving me groggy and out of it. I guess I needed the rest. The emotions I carried for so long left me drained. My body needed time to recover.

My brain was in the middle of processing a biology assignment. I needed to record my insights before they were forgotten. I grabbed the notebook next to me. Damn, I need a pen. I rolled over to see one laying on my desk across the room. Fighting fatigue, I forced myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. I imagined the pen being in my hand and looked down to see it was already there. Confusion set in. I glanced around the room to see if anyone was there. Maybe someone had thrown the pen to me. There was no one.

My phone rang through my gym bag before I could get the stupid thing out. Missed call from an unknown number. I set the phone on the bed and fell backward, exhausted from my efforts. It rang again.

“Hello."

“William, what are you doing?”

“Not too much,” I replied, “Just at home.”

“We need you at Gateway as soon as possible.” It was Corbin.

“I don’t know Corbin, I’ve had a horrific past 24 hours and I’m not really in the mood.” I replied, wishing to avoid those guys and be left alone. I didn’t know how to tell them about what I experienced in hell. The timing wasn't right.

“We need to talk. Get down here ASAP." He hung up. I groaned and shook my head, irritated with his demands.

I milled around my room, annoyed and overtired. The pen in my hand had a magical way of pulling me in, holding a magnetizing control over me. It freaked me out, how it seemed to magically appear in my hand. Maybe going to Gateway would help get my mind off of it. I left my room and got in my car. I drove through town, past the store owned by Corey’s family. Seeing it sent flashbacks of the tragedy jolting through my brain. I gripped down hard on the steering wheel, unable to force the images out of my mind.

Justin was waiting for me at the end of the dark driveway. My hands wanted to strangle him for abandoning me. I was deeply hurt, but pushed it aside. “Hey Will,” he said in a chipper voice. “We weren’t sure if you were gonna make it.”

“I wasn’t sure I would make it either, but I'm here.”

“Corbin thinks he might know why Gateway failed, or at least why we lost contact with you. He thinks it was a frequency problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are many levels of hell, each with its own frequency or vibration, if you will. Like a radio tuning into radio waves. Gateway works the same way. The regions of hell become darker and denser as a soul descends. It’s due to the heavy amount of evil in the region. Corbin thinks he had the frequency set too high and you were on a level that was too dense for our communications to reach you.” My palms moistened and my throat tightened. Justin looked me in the eye. “Will, where were you?”

We reached the lab. There was no sign of Monika. “Where’s Monika?” I asked.

“Working.” Corbin blurted out rudely, as if my question annoyed him. He was in his usual position seated in front of his computer.

“Take a seat Will.” Justin motioned for me to sit on the couch next to him.

“Sorry guys, I don’t want to do this. At least not right now.” I got up to leave.

Justin placed his hand on my shoulder and with a firm grip pressed down. “Will, please, we need to talk.” He appeared eager to listen, eager to help. Corbin didn’t take his eyes off of his computer screen.

“I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t hear you.”

“I know.” Justin replied. “Corbin's working on the frequency thing. Will, we're so sorry.” I could sense a genuineness in Justin's voice and a coldness in Corbin’s nonresponse.

I took a deep breath. “I think I'm done.” I paused for a response but none came. “This whole ghost hunting, paranormal, Resurrectionist thing just isn’t for me. Some things are better left alone.”

Justin nodded while looking down. “I’m sorry you feel that way Will, but I understand.”

“Just give it a few days. Let the shock wear off. Then we can try again.” Corbin said.

“What do you mean?"

“You had a rough go. It happens. You need to get over it and when you do you can try again.”

“I don’t think you understand me. I’m out! I’m not coming back. This is goodbye.”

“Tell me Will, what exactly did you see down there?” Justin intervened. They weren't going to let me out without giving them some answers.

“It's the worst thing imaginable. The fear, the terror, the pain. It's everywhere. I heard screams of tortured souls. And the darkness. It was perpetual blackness every second. There was no light other than an eerie reddish glow that my eyes faintly adjusted too over time. That’s it. The pain. The pain is indescribable. I don’t know if I had a physical body or not, but let me tell you, my spiritual body certainly felt pain. It was excruciating. I could feel and hear my bones break, even see it from time to time, yet I was never fully broken, even though my body burned fiercely. I should have died but didn’t.” I couldn't control the tremor in my hand as I spoke.

“Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.” Corbin stated without taking his eyes off the screen. “The simple fact is you weren’t ready. You still aren’t.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten past the village of the damned you arrogant ass!"

“Will, I know it’s difficult. I know the things you saw, what you experienced must have been horrific. It’s my fault. I pushed you too soon. For that I am sorry.” Justin said.

“No, it’s not your fault. I chose to go. I thought I was strong, tough, I thought I could save her. It was my own arrogance, my own unwillingness to accept the fact that she was gone and that I was to blame."

“No, Will, don’t blame yourself. Don’t place the guilt of Allison's death upon yourself.” Justin said.

“No, Justin, you don’t understand. I am guilty. I could've saved her. Maybe not in hell, but here before it all started.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“I couldn’t tell her I loved her. I was too scared to reveal my true emotions. That's where I failed.”

I didn’t tell them about my confrontation with the dark figure. I wrestled with lying to them but they would’ve just put me under a microscope or run various tests on me. The darkness scared me, scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t deny it, even though I tried my best. That’s how I dealt with everything. I was learning through my work with Dr. Z. that this is an unhealthy approach, but sometimes it's easier than dealing with truth. I don’t think Justin or Corbin picked up on my omission. They were too fascinated with my tale of hell to even notice.

“Will, would you be willing to make another attempt? Corbin has some tweaking on Gateway to do but he assures me that he can resolve the problem. You were in the deeper regions of hell. This is pioneering Will! No Resurrectionist has ever been that deep.”

"You don’t understand. This isn't some game or expedition. It’s not something I ever want to experience again. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind. I'm out!”

Justin inhaled slowly and spoke before I could walk away. “We can save Allison, if we work together.”