You probably thought I'd never finish it - you might be right, but at least I'm going to start finishing the end or something like that. Had to re-read the last bit because it's been so long since I wrote it....seems Ok - so, deep breath and here we go.
Been here a while now, seems like a very long time. That's the problem with being down here - time seems to move at a very different speed from up there. I tried a calendar, or even scratching lines on the wall to keep track, but days aren't days down here, which kind of throws it all out. There isn't any sunrise or sunset, it's all some kind of grey, like the sort of day when you know it's going to rain all day, but it never quite does. The only way you can work out that it's tomorrow is by going down to the ferry and looking at the passenger lists. They've all got a date and time on them - because they only give counselling to people for the first couple of weeks and so they know when people are ready to move out of Asphodel and on to wherever. I suppose you could say it's a bit like sleep deprivation - you don't actually get any - but that's because you're not really awake either - except the name of the game down here is life deprivation - the purpose of it is that after a while you start forgetting who you think you are, probably because you aren't them any more, and things kind of seem to be out of focus.
They tried to explain it to me, during one of those marathon counselling sessions they still go in for - the "how to come to terms with never, ever, being alive again" ones that they seem to enjoy making me go through because I'm still playing hard to get, still trying to deny my lack of mortality - my demise, my departure from the land of the living, my inability to breathe, eat, sleep, do anything - my death, they call it. They keep reminding me not to have any expectations of things changing, but I'm still kicking - although I'm not alive.
So why am I still holding out ? I can still remember how I ended up down here - the deal that went wrong and the failed rescue, and I'm still very, very, angry about it all. They tell me that's how you end up haunting places, being angry, but there isn't anywhere I want to haunt, or anyone either. I saw the look on his face as I was dragged screaming back down here, and it was the sort of face you don't want to ever see again - all hope gone, the light behind the eyes fading although he was still alive, the realisation that it was all down to him in the end and he'd failed me...it was too much to bear. Can't do action replays of that, no way, not at all.
Maybe that's why I'm so angry - I'm so aware that I got myself into this mess to get at him, and it got at me - I became my own nemesis - and it serves me right. That's one hell of an anger to come to terms with.
So what is he up to anyway ? I'm still allowed up there once in a while, just to see ( I think Mr H does it to torture me because I turned him down) and it's not that rosy for him either. I was worried that he'd get off with that cow next door, but he seems not to be in the least interested in her or in anybody else of the opposite sex - not even his music, it's all going wrong for him too. Last time he played anything, instead of charming the wild beasts, one of them came up and bit him. Quite nasty it was. Obviously lost his touch there too.
She's tried throwing herself at him a couple of times, but he pointed out, firmly, gently and very, very, sadly that she was a married woman and that he thought her husband was expecting her to wait for him. After the second time it happened, I think she took the hint. She didn't look too pleased about it though. So Penny's off the menu. He seems to be sadder than I've ever known him - there's that empty look in his eyes, the thousand mile stare, I think they call it - someone who's seen something and felt something they wish they hadn't. Which indeed he has - plus he thought it would be easy to sort out, bringing me back, what with his powers and his half-godness - and it's all turned out wrong, and he blames himself. If only he hadn't showed off about charming snakes, or messed around with Penny, or turned round to look at that crucial moment, that's what's eating away at him - the what ifs, the if onlys and the why did I's - and none of them bring any comfort. I don't need to haunt him, he's there haunting himself. Which isn't what I want for him - at least he did try - and I think that if he knew the truth, what really happened, he might feel different about it - so I ask about telling him, in a dream as it were, what actually happened, but apparently I'm not allowed to. The rules ( surprise, surprise - as interpreted by Mr H, I reckon) don't allow that, it's "interfering with the living and their coping mechanisms for your dying in a way that's incompatible with being dead" they tell me, and now I really am dead, I'm having to comply a bit more than I did. They do have power over me down here - and it's miserable enough without making it unbearable.
Apparently the only time I would be allowed to tell him is if he was going to top himself because of it - and then only after he'd started - you know, that bit when the whole of your life flashes before your eyes - that's when you can butt in, apparently, and point out it's not their fault - which might change their mind about dying - but whether they make it out alive or not depends on the method they've used to try to do it, and whether they can stop it somehow - and if they don't make it, you've just spilt the beans on what really happened, so when they do get down her they're not going to be happy about it, not at all - sounds more than a bit hit and miss if you ask me, too many chances of it all going wrong. Let's just hope he doesn't do anything like that. I'm sure Mr H would love telling me that he was - and he'd probably insist on me confessing, too, especially if it was pointless - he'd probably find something in the rule book that meant I had to.
So back down here, I'm struggling to keep myself from going native with the dead people - every session with the counsellors pushes me closer to the edge of forgetting that I'm really still alive -I didn't really die - somebody cheated, and I shouldn't be here. I would say it was a gut reaction, but they aren't where I thought they'd be - I'm still making the jokes about PMs, althought they aren't really that funny any more. I just feel that it's not right and that someone will sort it all out - it's all been a big mistake and all that.
Tony's not been around for a while - he got sent back up to be killed again ( like he does every year) not long after the rescue went wrong, so he's up there having a great time messing about with Aphrodite, waiting for the right time of year, and because of that Lady P down here is miserable as sin. I reckon there's still a few months to go, too. All comes down to pomegranates in the end, but I'm not saying that to her, well, not to her face anyway.
As for the DRC, the club I wanted to set up, most of them have moved on to the Fields already, wimps, none of them got the persistence to hang around in Asphodel and kick against it.
So that's it from me for now, I'll let you know any developments - assuming there are some. I've nicked the counsellors' guidebook and scripts, so maybe I'll tell you more about them next time....
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