My complete and finished short story:

‘The White Room’
by Rude.

I awoke startled, and instantly shielded my eyes from the bright light. Slowly I rubbed my eyes and cautiously opened them again. The light had subsided and I could see clearly. All around me was whiteness. Looking at myself, I found that I was in white, linen pyjamas. Was I in some sort of hospital? Everything was just so white, even the bed I sat on, with no duvet or pillow, was white. There was no sign of a door or windows to the apparently empty room. Just where the hell was I, and why was I here? Thinking about it, I didn’t even know my own name. I didn’t know anything about myself. I lay back down and closed my eyes. A face appeared in the blackness of my mind. A pretty middle-aged woman's face stared at me. Her crystal blue eyes shimmered and her wavy auburn hair fluttered in a breeze that didn’t even exist. The image faded and the darkness returned. I believed I was crazy, I had no recollection of who the woman was or how I came to be in a room that was totally enclosed. As I opened my eyes a name came into my mind. Mark. Was that my name? If it was, why didn’t my surname come to me too? I searched my mind to pick up more memories, but nothing came to me.

I got to my feet to examine the room. The bed sat in the middle of the room and was all that occupied the room. I ran my hands over the walls. They felt smooth and cold and after checking all four walls there definitely was no exit to the white room. Was I in hell? No, there were no flames and certainly no demons torturing me. But then, who had been to hell to create the image that is so popular to the name? Maybe hell is being trapped in a room for the rest of your existence? Why was I even thinking of hell? It would mean that I was dead and I didn’t feel dead. Touching my body it felt quite solid and I wished there was a mirror so I could see what my face looked like. Maybe it was all twisted in some deformed manner and I had been locked up because I frightened to many people. Touching my face with my fingers I found that I could not feel any strange dents or bulges, just some slight stubble on my chin and throat.

I tried calling out; “Hello, is there anyone there?” My voice sounded pretty deep and coarse. The words echoed around the room and then silence returned. Sitting back on the bed I held my head in my hands. A loud creak rang out; looking up I saw that a door shaped space had appeared in the wall opposite me. The space was completely black and quite daunting. Was I meant to walk into the darkness? There was nothing to lose by entering the space, I had to get out the room. I jumped off the bed and walked across the room to the opening. My gut felt like there were a thousand butterflies inside of me, I was so nervous about what was going to happen to me. Closing my eyes I stepped into the darkness, a gunshot echoed in the darkness and I quickly opened my eyes. I found myself no longer in the white room but in a city instead.

New York City, it was most definitely New York that I was now standing in. Enormous, tall buildings reached into the sky and towered over the streets that were crowded with people. Voices rang out all around me as people walked in all directions, chatting on their mobile phones and to one another. It was a hectic, chaotic sight, seeing in just one street, people marginally avoiding banging into each other or not getting run over by the masses of traffic. How I knew that I was in New York was beyond me. Just a gut feeling told me that this is the place I live in and that it has to be New York City.

I looked at myself and I wasn’t wearing the pyjamas anymore, but blue jeans and a plain, short-sleeved t-shirt. Looking around, I found myself standing on some steps leading up to a typical New York apartment block. Was this my home? I wanted to investigate further, but I decided the best thing for me to do was to get to a hospital and have a doctor check me out to see if I had amnesia. After about a minute, the curb in front of me had cleared of people and so I moved forward to the edge of the road to grab the attention of a cab. Three, clearly empty cabs, drove past me with their green active lights on. As I yelled and waved to them, I heard laughter behind me and I swung round. A tall man with streaks of grey in his hair stood before me, smiling. He was dressed very smartly in a black suit with a bright red tie. I recognised the suit as an Armani, telling me that this guy was pretty well off.

“There’s no point in calling out to the cab they won’t react to you,” the man said beaming at me.

I was confused. Why did a random stranger come up to me and say that? I cleared my throat and spoke. “And why won’t they react to me?” I asked.

“It seems like you didn't leave the white room that long ago. Sorry to tell you this, but your dead,” the man replied, seeming to enjoying telling me the startling news.

“Dead? You’re crazy, I’m not dead at all!” I snapped back, quite angry at the accusation. My heart skipped a beat, the man did say something about the white room and how could he know about that?

“Believe me my friend I have no reason to lie to you. Don’t you see the hazy green glow around me that indicates that I’m as dead as you?” The man said, waving his arms over his body.

I focused hard on the man. There was something that glowed around his body. It was like looking at a person’s aura. I looked at my arms and didn’t see anything. I certainly had no glow to me. The man saw the bemused look on my face and laughed cheerfully.

“You can’t see your own glow but you definitely have one. It’s the same green-blue colour I see when I run into other ghosts,” the man said.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The guy had called me a ghost! I touched myself again and still felt as solid as I did before when in the white room. “You mentioned something about the white room, how did you know about that?” I asked, starting to feel panic rising in me.

The man again looked delighted that he was able to answer the question. “The white room is where we all start off. Well, all the ghosts I’ve ever met have come from the white room…”

I didn’t let the guy finish. “Just how many others have you met?” I asked.

“I can’t say I’ve counted. I’ve talked to about twenty and seen a couple of hundred but never got the chance to speak with them. Oh, by the way let me introduce myself, I believe my name is Josh, nice to meet you,” he said holding his hand out for me to shake.

The man still sounded crazy to me but I felt obliged to shake his hand. Moving my hand forward it went completely through Josh’s and gave me a slight electric shock. I shook my hand in pain and glanced warily at Josh, who seemed to find the whole ordeal hilarious.

“Thanks for that Josh, real funny,” I said, shaking my hand to relieve the pain. “So how come you only believe your name to be Josh?” I said.

“Ah yes, good question. It’s the only name in my head and I don’t have any other memories at all. God alone knows why I’m in New York. Ha! I said God! Anyway, others I have met have had no memories of their previous life either, but a few have some vague memories and are trying to piece them all together and find out more about themselves. To me that’s a waste of time,” Josh answered, without a pause for breath.

The words from Josh hit me like a sack of potatoes. What he said was exactly what I was experiencing, so maybe I was in fact dead. While Josh and me were chatting I'd noticed that no one who walked past us had paid us the slightest attention. We stood on the corner of the curb and thus wouldn’t be banged into by the crowd. I felt the urge to find out if I was a ghost and Josh wasn’t playing some kind of trick on me. Turning my back on Josh I stepped forward and waited to get trampled on by an oncoming crowd of four schoolgirls.

Nothing. Nothing happened, the girls passed straight through me without even flinching. I felt no sensation at all except for the sickening feeling in my stomach with the realisation that I was truly dead. Laughter rang out from behind me. Josh could contain himself no longer. “Oh my, what the hell did you expect to happen? The girls to stop and scream out that a ghost had touched them! Only ghosts can touch other ghosts. You get that electric feeling that happened when we shook hands. It’s a defence to get rid of ghosts that won’t leave you alone,” Josh said, with the grin on his face that really pissed me off.

I could remember that some ghosts called poltergeists could inflict sensations on people and make objects move. Didn’t I have that ability also? “So Josh, can’t we touch people and make them feel something? Can we move objects?” I asked, hoping that I would get a straight answer.

“Some ghosts I've met can do it. I’ve never really tried though. I hear it takes a lot of energy and concentration. Anyway, I’m going to take off now and go watch a ball game; hopefully the New York Yankees will win again! Oh, before I go, I don’t even know your name?” Josh said.

I debated whether to tell Josh my name. I wasn’t even sure that Mark was my real name. “I think my name is Mark,” I answered.

“Cool man. Well I may see you around. So long,” waved Josh, as he walked into the middle of the road and a couple of cars passed straight through his body. To be perfectly honest I was glad to see the back of Josh. He had helped me but he was also a bit of an arsehole, he most certainly must have been a lawyer when he was alive.

I turned to face the steps of the apartment where I had first arrived. I had to inspect the place to be sure whether or not I had once lived there. I hurriedly walked across the busy pavement full of pedestrians and walked through the front door. I expected to feel weird walking through the door but it just felt like it wasn’t there at all. I walked up the stairs in front of me and found myself in the hallway of an apartment. A couple of pictures, one of the Empire State Building and the other of dogs playing poker hung on the walls. A coat rack and a storage area for shoes was all that occupied the hallway. As I moved into the living room, I could see into the kitchen too. The apartment was very dusty and the cream-covered walls had a thin layer of mould on them, caused by damp. The curtains were drawn in the living room and the place was very bare. The place seemed modern, but very basic. I walked through the sofa and into the adjoining kitchen. The work surfaces were very dirty with spillages and breadcrumbs littering them. The place looked like it had been unoccupied for a few weeks. It was at this point that I realised I didn’t have a sense of smell. I should have noticed this outside the apartment in the exhaust-fume filled streets of Manhattan, but the sight of grime triggered my thoughts. I was thankful that I couldn’t smell when I stuck my head through the fridge door and saw the decaying carcass of a roast chicken. I quickly exited the kitchen and walked through the apartment until I reached the master bedroom. The bedroom was as dull as the rest of the place. Just a bed, which had a duvet sprawled all over it and a TV on top of a chest of drawers. Searching the apartment really did not help me identify if I had ever lived there, there were no pictures of people, however, by the amount of beer in the fridge it was more than likely that a man called this apartment his home. I was most definitely at a loss to know what to do next.

As I approached the stairs that led out of the apartment I caught a glimpse of something ahead of me. It looked as if a cluster of purple and blue flames was standing in the doorway of the living room. I blinked, and the sight of flames that I'd seen for that fraction of a second had disappeared. My dead heart beat hard and I could still hear the sound of my blood rushing through my body. It was a weird sensation to feel so alive, but have no a sense of smell or be able to touch anything except for myself; at least I still had my hearing and sight. I decided to quickly get out of the apartment just in case what I had seen was real. At the bottom of the stairs I saw a pile of letters and bills that I had missed on the way in. Unfortunately I couldn’t see who they were addressed to and so headed back through the front door to explore the streets of New York.

Half an hour of walking and I had passed through Times Square, seen the Empire State Building and wondered whether I should go and watch the Knicks at Madison Square Garden that evening. I had walked through so many people and still not felt a single sensation. I did catch sight of another ghost, but the old man with the faint green aura quickly left the steps he sat on and vanished into the hotel as soon as he saw me. I felt empty. If I was indeed dead, which seemed more than likely, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my existence walking around New York. The city had plenty to see but what good was that to me when I couldn’t interact and enjoy the experience to its full extent. Being able to walk through walls and spy on people might have given me the opportunity to watch a woman undress, but I didn’t even feel any sexual urges. It really wasn’t any fun being dead. I was alone and without a memory.

I was lost in thought as I walked through the Italian district of New York. I stopped dead and clutched my head when a searing pain enveloped my whole body. The pain was like the electric shock from the handshake with Josh but a million times more painful. I felt on fire and was completely frozen to the spot. I looked down at my midriff and was shocked at the sight of a purple hand covered in flames sticking out of my stomach. I wanted to scream and run away but I couldn’t. I had never felt so afraid and I couldn’t even turn around to see what was causing my body to hurt so badly. Did I really want to face this thing? No, I didn’t. I had a theory that this thing was the same flicker of flames that I'd seen in the apartment, but now it had gathered human shape.

A gunshot rang out and I was in darkness. Had I fainted? An image came to me while I was unconscious. I sat in a car and was chatting to a boy through the car window. The boy looked to be in his mid to late teens and he had long, wavy chestnut brown hair and blue eyes that resembled the eyes of the woman that had come to my mind before. He wore jeans and a skateboarding t-shirt and had a rucksack on his shoulder. The boy was talking to me but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I had a feeling that the boy was my son. He laughed and then waved before heading up some steps with other people of his age. I felt happy as I watched my son disappear through the doorway of the building. The buildings name I read on the sign above the door: Beacon School.

I awoke in a cold sweat, lying on the pavement with people walking over me and through by body. Thankfully the flame thing had disappeared. I didn’t even want to think about what that creature was and why it had caused me so much pain. The only good thing that had come from the experience was the vision that now gave me a purpose. I needed to find my son and the best place to do that was at his school. The main problem was that I had no idea where Beacon School was. I only had a gut feeling that I'd had to drive by Central Park to get there. Being in the Italian District I had walked in the complete opposite direction in my travels, so I turned around and headed for Central Park. On my journey I didn't see another ghost. This I found a little weird because New York housed millions of people and people died all the time, so you would imagine that there would be plenty of ghosts about. I wanted to ask another ghost whether they had ever seen the flame creature, which I now thought, was probably some sort of demon. I had never felt pain as intense when I was alive as to when the demon touched me. I felt paranoid now and constantly looked over my shoulder as I walked. I believed that I was a marked ghost and other ghosts knew this and were avoiding me. I could have been completely wrong, but that was how paranoid I was feeling.

I arrived at Central Park and was glad to see some greenery after the blandness of the high-rise concrete and glass buildings. Central Park made you realise that wildlife did exist in New York, as birds sang in the trees and squirrels hurriedly raced across the grass on the look out for nuts. I felt as if I used to spend lots of time in Central Park, sitting on a bench and writing, while animals carried out their daily tasks around me. I also felt safe from the demon even though it could be lurking anywhere. It was as if Central Park was too beautiful and fresh for a demon to be allowed to pass through. I knew that this thought was probably not true and the safest place for me would have been a church, however, I somehow knew that I was never religious when I was alive and therefore I didn’t see a church as a sacred place where a demon couldn’t hurt me.

My internal clock seemed to be working as if I was alive and I could tell that the time was approaching mid-afternoon. I took a look at the watch on my left wrist, which was a completely stupid idea. The watch was on my wrist, but of course it had stopped working, the time read 9.37pm and it obviously wasn’t the right time. I headed west from Central Park when the number 61 started ringing in my head. I was on West 65th street and took the advice of my thoughts that were throwing brief snippets of memories at me more and more frequently. On West 61st Street at number 227 stood Beacon School. I had found my son’s school by complete fluke. Well it wasn’t a complete fluke, it was due to flashes of memory, but it certainly felt like a fluke. All that was left for me to do was to wait around until the end of school and hope to see my son.

I didn’t have to wait long before cars began to park outside the school with parents ready to pick up their children. The school bell rang out minutes later and the front entrance of the school swarmed with children of various ages. I cursed quietly under my breath at the sight and made my way into the middle of the crowd. It was going to be such a hard job to spot my son but I couldn’t miss the opportunity. Quarter of an hour later, fewer and fewer cars remained and only the odd child emerged from the building. I thought I had missed my chance until I spotted a tall lad wearing a long, black trench coat with wavy black hair emerge from the school. He looked like a Goth with chains around his neck and rings on his fingers, but what caught my eye were his sparkling blue eyes. Without a doubt it was my son. How he had changed from my vision of him earlier. He looked miserable as he made his way slowly towards the silver estate car parked across the road. My heartbeat gradually quickened as I made my way to the car. My son threw his rucksack in the back of the car and then took his place in the passenger seat. I hurried myself into the back seat of the car before it moved away. It then hit me that the car would drive away with me passing right through it. I then remembered that I had walked up the steps in the apartment that I thought was mine and back in the white room I had sat on a bed without falling through it. I only achieved these two things by not concentrating and doing what was normal when I was alive. I put myself in a sitting position and began to think of just sitting in a car. I slowly moved my feet from sticking through the bottom of the car and placed them on the floor. As the car pulled off I felt solid and thankfully moved with the car. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and just thinking about being a ghost made my bottom sink a little into the seat.

I could now focus on the people in the car. I could only see the back of the woman's head who was driving my son home. Her auburn hair was long and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a while. I wished I could see her face but knew any attempt to move would probably make me fall through the car to the hard, tarmac road below. Neither the woman nor my son spoke. My son faced towards the window and there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. I hadn’t paid any attention to where we were travelling but as the tall buildings decreased in size, it looked as if we were heading for the suburbs of New York.

I finally caught a glimpse of the woman as she turned her head to look at my son. Her face was pale with a few wrinkles lining it. From my position she looked gaunt and as if she hadn’t slept for days or even weeks. She was definitely the woman from my vision but looked a little older. Her bright blue eyes were the major give away. They told me she was my wife because her eyes were definitely the same as my son’s. I couldn’t stop myself from moving through the seat in front of me so I could face her full on. Without a doubt it was my wife. Julia instantly came to my mind. My heart felt like it would explode as I could see her fully. All my feelings for my wife swept back to me. How I loved her so much and yet it pained me to see that my death had unfortunately aged her and produced a barrier between my wife and my son. She eerily looked straight through me and as I thought about this I felt my body give way a little and so I quickly returned to the back seat.

Moments later the car pulled into the driveway of a modern, detached house. The front garden’s grass was slightly overgrown and the house could really have done with another lick of paint. I remained in the car as my son and wife headed into the house. I was so extremely happy to have found my family, but also felt nervous about entering the house. Did I really want to see how my family lived without me? Would they help me learn about how I died? Would I stay and watch over them for however long I stayed a ghost or until they died? Then I began to panic. Had the demon followed me and might it try and hurt my family? How I hoped not, but knew it was to late to change anything now.

I plucked up enough courage to exit the car and practically stumbled out of it as my mind raced with thoughts and questions. I walked up the narrow pathway and through the front door. I could hear my wife calling out to my son, “Jacob what do you want for dinner?” She yelled. There was no answer, instead a door slammed shut somewhere upstairs. My wife’s tone was harsher as she yelled out again. “Fine, no dinner for you! Oh and Mrs Tomlin rang earlier and said she was worried about how your grades were slipping, I think we need a good chat later”. Again no answer from my son, instead heavy metal music began to scream through the walls of the house. I'd learnt that Jacob was my son’s name. I was a little surprised at how that hadn’t come to my mind earlier when I saw him in my vision. My own name had, and so had my wife’s. So why not my sons? I brushed the thought out of my head and walked down the hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen where my wife stood, preparing dinner.

I moved so I could see her clearly. She looked frail, as tears ran down her cheeks. I hated to see my wife like this. As she cleaned potatoes over the sink, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. What I would have given to be able to feel her warm body close to mine. I jumped back as I saw her shudder. Did she feel my presence on her skin? I moved towards her again and kissed the side of her neck, she shuddered again and turned so our faces were only inches apart. She looked confused and her eyes darted left and right trying to find what had caused the sensation. Her watery eyes shone more brightly than ever and it made my heart sink that she couldn’t see me. I didn’t want to frighten her, so I decided not to touch her anymore. I believed it must have been the strong love we had for each other that enabled her to feel me, even if it was ever so slightly. Julia turned her back to me and resumed cleaning the potatoes. I had the urge to see our bedroom, the place where we both slept together and made love.

I walked back through the house and up the stairs that were situated in the hallway where the front door stood. Jacob’s music grew louder as I walked past his room, and at the end of the hallway I entered the master bedroom that my wife and I had shared together, but no more. Our bed stood opposite me against the wall in the centre of the room. I climbed on top of the bed, trying once again to think that I was alive and block all thoughts of being a ghost out of my mind. I positioned myself so I was lying down and rolled onto my left side. This was how I used to lie when I was alive. I used to just lie there and watch Julia sleeping. An image of her smiling at me in bed came into my head. The image faded as quickly as it had come, and as I stared into space I spotted a photo frame lying face down on the bedside table. I crawled over the bed and looked at the frame. Unfortunately it had been laid face down on the surface of the bedside table, so I couldn’t see the picture. Deep down in me I knew I needed to see the picture, I knew I was in the photo and I just had to see what I looked like. I moved my hand to take grip of the photo frame and tried to pick it up. My hand sailed straight through it, I tried again. I failed and grew annoyed with myself. After a few more attempts I hadn’t even moved the frame a fraction. It was more than an urge to see the picture, it was now an obsession. Frantically, I kept trying to pick it up until I felt drained of all energy. I had even tried the method of doing things as if I was alive, but it didn’t work at all. I sat, disheartened, on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands. After a few minutes of trying to clear my mind, I stood up and put both my hands on either side of the photo frame. I took a couple of deep breaths and closed my eyes. I had caused a sensation in my wife when I had touched her and I knew I could therefore pick up the frame. I focused all my energy to my hands and felt them become more solid. I was certain I could feel the surface of the wooden frame. Moving my hands in an upward motion I opened my eyes and felt the rush of excitement as I saw the picture frame was in my hands. I quickly turned it around to inspect the picture. A thumping sound in my head was all I could hear and feel as my heart went into overdrive at the sight of the picture.

Julia, looking much more beautiful and beaming with life, stood with my son in front of her and a man by her side. The man, with a cheerful grin on his clean-shaven face was without a doubt me. Even though I hadn’t seen my reflection as a ghost I knew that the man in the picture was me. His short black hair was tidier than I thought my hair was. I felt my hair and it was indeed a bit longer and more unkempt. My green eyes looked lovingly down at my son in front of me and I couldn’t help but spot that I was wearing a God-awful brown, leather jacket. What had I been thinking to buy something so old fashioned? Maybe it was a present from Julia, because no way would I have bought that jacket.

I heard the bedroom door open behind me and I turned around. Julia looked at me in horror. All she must have been able to see was the photo frame hovering in mid air. I dropped the frame and the glass broke on impact with the floor. Julia looked as if she was about to scream and then strangely her face and actions froze in time. She looked like a statue, her mouth open and fear in her eyes. What had made time freeze? I cautiously walked over to my wife to inspect her. The room grew blistering cold and I knew something had to be wrong. Laughter made me turn around. Now it was my turn to feel afraid. The demon stood before me, purple-blue flames covered his human shaped body. It was the first time that I had seen the demon face-to-face. I could make out his red eyes and the flames twirled to give the impression that the demon was smiling. Starting from his feet the flames began to disperse and flicker away. The demon was becoming human and I could see his leather shoes, then his trousers with what I thought was a police badge hanging from his belt. His upper body became visible; a dark blue shirt with a brown leather jacket over the top. I felt as if I was going to be sick as I saw his face. Green eyes, neat short cut black hair, a strong jaw and a small, wicked smile. I faced myself. He was my true opposite, even wearing that horrid jacket that was in the picture.

I was too perplexed to speak. The demon or mirror image of me ran his hand through his short hair before walking towards me. I wanted to run but again was frozen to the spot in fear. Inches in front of me I saw his hands turn back into flames as he drew them near to my head. I wanted to scream and I saw the delight in his eyes, which flickered red. “Hello brother,” he said, before plunging his flaming hands into my skull. I screamed from the excruciating pain that rattled my head, but after a few seconds the pain subsided and I felt completely numb. Memories flashed through my head as if scenes in a slideshow.

I sat on the side of the bed with Julia walking around the room putting her clothes on with a look of sadness in her teary eyes. “I’m sorry Simon but this can’t go on any longer,” she said, picking up and putting her skirt back on.

I felt angry, yet saddened by her words. “What do you mean it’s got to end? I love you and want to be with you,” I said, staring at the beauty of Julia only wearing a bra and skirt.

“It has to end before Mark finds out and I know Jacob is growing suspicious.” Julia said, now stopping getting dressed and just staring at me.

“Leave Mark and be with me!” I pleaded.

“Simon, you know that will never happen. Your job at the Express won’t be enough to look after me and Jacob and you know you will never make it to a big paper like the New York Times. I love Mark and he doesn’t deserve to get hurt. God I’ve been so stupid to put our marriage in jeopardy.” Julia said, watching me stand up and head towards her. I wrapped my arms around her and she pushed me away. I was disgusted with her. We had just made love and now she didn’t want me any longer.

I stopped watching the memory and the vision of Jacob and me at his school came to me again. This time I could hear what he was saying. Jacob laughed and waved. “Thanks for the lift Uncle Simon." The vision faded away and I saw a desk with piles of papers on it and a name plaque. The plaque read: Simon Trent.

Another memory rushed in and I lay on a bed reading. The room around me was the same bedroom as the apartment I had first explored when I had found out that I was a ghost. The phone rang by my side and I answered it, hearing sobbing on the other end of the line.

“Simon he knows!” Julia cried. “I said Jacob knew something and he must have told Mark.”

“What?! There is no way Jacob could have known! What did Mark say?” I asked feeling shocked and bewildered.

“He came charging in after his shift at the precinct and yelled that I was having an affair with you. He told me to admit it or he was going to get it out of you. I told him to stop being ridiculous and then he stormed off. He left the house moments ago and I’m scared for you Simon. I think he even has his gun with him,” Julia said, crying heavily.

I now felt sick. “Mark won’t do anything stupid. I'll just talk to him and calm him down. I'll say that Jacob must have been imagining things or something.”

“No Simon, don’t speak with him, he’s too angry to listen. Just get out of your apartment for a while,” Julia cried.

“That will just cause even more suspicion!” I yelled.

“Please Simon, just get out of there for now. If you want to speak to him, do it tomorrow, but not tonight. He won’t listen to you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Julia pleaded.

“Ok, ok, I'll go for a drink and some food at Don’s Diner then,” I sighed, feeling a little calmer.

The memory stopped then and another one butted in, in its place. I was relieving myself in the urinal at Don’s Diner when the door to the men’s room opened and closed quietly behind me. I finished, zipped myself up and turned around to be faced by Mark pointing a handgun at me. His eyes were full of rage and his cheeks shone red. “Hello brother,” he said. I was startled to see my brother, he had found me and I had to stay calm and focused on not letting anything about me and Julia slip out.

“Mark, why have you got your gun pointed at me and why are you here?” I asked, trying to sound like I didn’t know what was going on.

“Oh, you have some explaining to do Simon. Thanks to a few phone calls to the precinct I was able to track you to this place,” Mark answered, glaring at me.

“What do you mean by, 'some explaining to do?' ” I asked.

“Like sleeping with my wife!” Mark shouted, taking a few steps towards me.

I chuckled and shook my head, which only outraged Mark more. “What are you on about? I hardly see your wife let alone sleep with her. Now just put the gun away.”

“Just admit it Simon, that’s all I ask you to do. Jacob has given me enough evidence now to know its been you in bed with her and if she won’t admit she’s having an affair, then you will!!” Mark said, with the gun pointing straight at my chest and not wavering in the slightest.

I took a step towards Mark, shaking my head and trying to look innocent. “Mark, if Julia is having an affair, it certainly isn't with me. Please put the gun down and lets forget this ever happened.”

Mark looked at if he was going to explode and I could see his finger twitching on the trigger. He moved the gun downwards and I could see the flash of the bullet leaving the barrel of the gun. I cried out in pain as the bullet pierced through my right thigh. I couldn’t believe that my own brother had shot me. I knew now that the evidence he had gotten off Jacob must have been pretty conclusive for him to shoot me.

Mark walked up to me as I desperately pressed against the wound to prevent loss of blood. I couldn’t feel the pain from the bullet anymore; I just felt boiling hot and weak. Mark pointed the gun once more at my chest before speaking. “Now you know I mean business. Just tell me the truth or I will blow another hole in you, but this time it won't be your leg.”

My brother had always been so kind. I remembered him helping me out when a gang of bullies started on me in the school playground when we were twelve. He took me to hospital once in his old pickup truck when I fell off a roof I was trying to fix and broke my arm. He also loaned me money so I could buy my apartment in New York. Now he seemed possessed with hurt and rage and secretly I knew I deserved what I got. I saw Mark’s finger ready to pull the trigger again. I gritted my teeth and hurled myself at my brother who stood only a couple of feet away from me. I don’t know what happened next but we both ended up on the floor, with me on top of him. Another gunshot was fired in the ensuing struggle.

I felt fine except the burning sensation in my leg as I rolled off my brother. I could here sirens in the background telling me that the owners of the Diner had called the cops. I looked back at my brother and saw the blood. It pumped out of my brother’s chest, creating a pool of red on the rest room floor. I wanted to throw up. My brother’s eyes stared straight towards the ceiling with an empty, lifeless look to them. I stared at his lifeless body in total shock. I had killed my own brother. I could hear the sirens grow louder and I knew I was looking at a very long time in jail. My sentence would be even longer for killing a cop. There was no escape from the situation and really I deserved to rot in a jail cell for the rest of my life. I had betrayed my brother by having an affair with his wife and now I had killed him. In a moment of madness I picked up the blood-soaked gun and held it to my temple. I didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t want to have to face the woman I loved knowing that I had destroyed her life by killing her husband. I was shaking as I pulled the trigger. The last thing I heard in my life was a gunshot.

I was back in my brother’s bedroom with my memory fully returned. I crouched on my knees sobbing heavily. I saw on my brother’s left hand his wedding ring and looked at my own to see no ring. The memories had all been the truth. I turned and looked at Julia’s frozen body and my face was smacked away by Mark’s foot. “Don’t you ever lay your dirty eyes on my wife again!” Mark yelled, his eyes flaring red. “You don’t deserve to look at her! You have destroyed her and my son, all for your own selfish needs! You just couldn’t start a family of your own, so you just took mine instead!”

All I could do was lie on the floor with tears streaming down my face. My brother was right; I was so selfish and had hurt everyone. I couldn’t bear to make eye contact with him. I had literally created a demon in my brother, a demon who had helped regain my memory completely. I was so stupid to believe I had had a beautiful family who I loved. It was all a lie; I had tried to lead my twin brother’s life. I snapped out of my thoughts as Mark reached out for me; his hands on fire once more. He took me by the head and pulled me upwards so our eyes met. He spoke with his eyes flickering with wickedness and delight. “Now its time for my vengeance. Now its time for you to go to h…”

I awoke and squinted my eyes from the bright light. I was on a bed in a room with no windows or doors and I wore plain, white, linen pyjamas. I was back in the white room, this time, however, I had total recollection of my memories. My face became damp with the tears that I knew would stream forever. I had been right in the first place about the white room; it was hell and it was the place I would stay with my memories and guilt for the rest of eternity.