Heaven's Hell chapters 1 - 4

Chapter 1
“Alastair." I look left. Nothing. I look right. Nothing. I look ahead. Something. The room is dark, "Agar," the walls are teal and the air is pure. I rub my right eye with my palm and yawn. "Alastair Agar," I realize that is me talking. Who am I talking to? Where am I? I don’t know.
"Here," an anonymous voice says. A cup of coffee slides from the dark end of the stainless steel table in front of me and stops an arm’s reach away. I lean on the two front legs of the wooden chair I’ve Been set in and grasp the cup while I try to, at least, get a dim outline of who I’m speaking with. The coffee is making my hand burn so I set it down. "Please," The evil voice says. "Restate your name", I am tired and possibly have bloodshot eyes.
"Alastair Agar," I say, "my name is Alastair Agar," The coffee is now sitting there laughing at me so I chug it down.
"Have some more," he says sliding me another cup that I can reach without leaning over. I pick it up but it isn't as hot as the last one. I take a sip and taste the bold in the blend. I don’t know how I got here and, for some reason, I can’t care.
“Alright let’s see”, he says, “your file says that you are now 25 right?” he pushes a yellow folder to me and I read it.
Name: Alastair Agar {middle name unknown}
Date of birth: 5/15/1985 Age: 25
Height: 6’ 0’’ Weight: 153

The rest is all talk of what I want to forget. “Mostly personal details?” I ask with a disturbed look on my face.
“Hmm,” I hear him hum. I’m not sure if that was an answer or an agreement. I set the folder down and lean back to stretch wondering about why I’m here. No problems come up with the people I meet. I sit myself up and yawn again. “Do you see her anymore,” he says.
“What,” I ask and so he tosses a picture of a beautiful woman. I look at the picture and see someone familiar. My wife.
About a month ago Tam, my wife, told me that I need to get my life together right before she left. Last I heard of her she was staying at a friend’s place drinking up a storm and leaving the house to party. I miss her but first she needs to get her life together before she thinks about walking back in and pretending nothing ever happened. She has never acted that way before.
“Mr. Agar if you please,” he says, “I have to ask you about your wife.”
“What is there to know? She left me about a month ago.”
I hear him shift in his seat and then after a long awkward silence he says, “She moves in with a friend and you sit at home waiting for her to walk in and say sorry.” The sad thing about what he just said was the fact that it was true. I sat at home waiting to see if Tam will walk in and we would make up. Knowing Tam she would come back but instead of wanting to say sorry she would yell at me and make more problems in our failing relationship. As for me I would kick her out of my house, possibly get drunk and pass out on the couch.
“Wait,” I tell him, “before you start talking again I want to know who you are and why I’m here.”
“I also want to ask you about your trip to Italy 5 years ago.” He continues without answering. Italy though I remember that little vacation Tam and I took there. I will never forget how happy we were and how beautiful Vatican City was. I will also never forget that day that I died.

Chapter 2
5 years ago
Forgetting the day you die but manage to live to tell about it is mentally impossible. I was in Italy with Tam. She was in a bad mood the day before we left because I caught a stomach virus and spent the first 10 minutes of every hour in the bathroom bent over the toilet.
“Are you okay,” Tam said after I finished choking down what almost went over my food.
“Yea I’ll be fine.” I took a glance at the bathroom door thinking I may need to make a run for it.
“See this is why I said we should stay in because I knew you were going to have to run to a bathroom every time you see one,” she yelled. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Tam, please, I need you to stop yelling because you’re starting to piss me off, do I look like I wanted to feel this way?” She looked pissed so I adjusted myself in my seat and finished what I had left on my plate.
“You should be happy I decided to take you with,” she said.
I thought for a second and said, “You should be happy I paid with for this trip with what my dad left me after years of pain.” That sure shut her up.
My father was a good man; Worked in a charity group for a good 10 years because he cared about children and also worked in factories that built the materials needed to make children’s hospital. He died at home while sleeping. He came down with West Nile virus and took a few days off work. My mom found him the next day when she came home from seeing her sister in the town next to us. I was 13 when she woke me up and told me to go to the neighbors and stay until she came to get me. I hadn’t heard of his death until days after. She was saying that he was in the hospital but I knew the reason she sent me next door from the moment she woke me up. He was older and was still fighting lung cancer so his body just gave out on him but I had the feeling he was ready to go.
Two years after my dad’s death I met Tam at a fist fight in the street, between her and some other girl, over who was talking what about the other. Tam won, hard, sending the other girl to the hospital with a few broken bones. She and I stayed friends through middle school. Our first kiss took place over summer at a party. I thought she would be the one but she turned out to be a bitch.
My mom was diagnosed with diabetes in my second year of high school and had to get her left leg removed from the knee down. I got a job at a movie theater so the hospital sent her home with a live in nurse. I wasn’t comfortable knowing there is a complete stranger living with my mom. I quit my job to stay home and help my mom and the nurse showed me the ropes of how to do C.P.R or how to treat someone if they start to seizure. My mom is still alive today but lives in a retirement home where they take good care of her.
Tams eyes looked dilated from where I’m standing. “If you need me I’ll be in the room,” she said right before standing up and leaving me with the bill. I can’t feel sorry for someone who keeps trying to make my life unbearable so I decided to walk around for a little bit and try to see some of the sights. I passed our hotel on my journey to find something to do. I went into this small store to use the toilet once again and come out only to buy a drink because I was out of mouthwash. I walk and gargle some of the drink and spit it in the nearest trash can. My stomach pain was worse than before so I drink what’s rest of the bottle and throw it away. I sat on a bench for a while to sum up what I am feeling now and write it down.
1. Stomach pain
2. Vomiting
3. Dizziness
4. Tired
I was very tired then sitting on that bench. I stood up and tried to walk back to the hotel. I ran into some people and hit some stuff. I sat down to rest on the wall outside my building. I closed my eyes wanting to sleep more than anything but when I awoke I was cold, naked and laying on a big metal tray, crammed in some storage compartment.

Chapter 3
I did manage to kick the door open to my metal coffin and find my stuff on one of the tables. After getting dressed I tried thinking of an escape plan without giving someone a heart attack. I heard the door to the room open and watched as two people came in dressed in white coats {doctors I guess} and I dived in to the nearest open compartment.
I tell you diving face first onto a dead guy wasn’t my first idea but it seemed the quickest way not to get the police called in. The poor guy had been shot in the head and I had just body slammed him. It was gross and I felt really bad and very sick to the stomach like before I woke in here.
So there I was, lying on a deceased man with people in the room right outside who would think I’m a zombie but what can I do? I waited for about five minutes until the room went dark and I heard them leave. I slid out and said sorry to the dead guy for swan diving on him, god I wanted to puke in there with him but that would be mean. I passed the table where my stuff was and noticed a folder set on the corner. I grabbed it but it was too dark to read; all I got off of it was my name written on the front. I tucked the folder under my arm and headed towards the door. I peeked through the blurred glass on the door to see if anyone was out there. The area outside the room seemed empty so I opened the door slowly and looked around the corner, my guess was right, the hallway outside was empty but, unfortunately, the hospital wasn’t. I saw a sign that said elevator and decided to follow it but it took me to some meeting taking place in the room right across from the elevator doors. I checked to see which way everyone was facing and made a run for it. Of course the elevator is halfway up and of course more doctors dressed in gloves and goggles have to be coming around the corner. I can see that the elevator is finally coming down as I try to cover my face by turning the other way the doctors are coming. They are talking about medical stuff and other crap I can’t follow. The elevator doors were on the loud side when opening and the squeak made me cringe up with the fear of the doctors a few feet away looking this way and the noise was a bit painful. I crammed myself in the corner of the empty elevator to avoid the cameras as best as possible. The doors opened on the first floor waiting area where I saw people sitting in separate sections of the room. Some people were holding a towel over a kids head as it bled through every time they turned it. In the other seat was a happy looking old couple. I had a slight moment of jealousy sweep across me. Why couldn’t I be like that with Tam? Tam I though. Where was she was the only question I had while I was walking out the front doors. Outside was a bright world filled with life and I was one in over 6,000,000,000 people who got a second chance to live it.
I thought I was still in Italy until I remembered everyone speaking English and my surroundings looked like my part of Denver, Colorado. My house was a good five miles from here and I managed to find a bunch of money amongst my stuff I had shoved in my pocket. I took the bus about half a mile away from my long missed home. I walked the rest of the way in the cool breeze and warm sun. I was shocked by the familiar smell that blasted me as I opened the door to the front of my two story retro specked home. I stepped through the arch Tam had put up to make more of a welcome when people came. I always hated it. No Tam yet even though I had traveled the full bottom portion of the household. I went upstairs and strait to our room where I found Tam sleeping with the phone by her side. I saw that it was still on so I went and took it. But at the split second I grabbed the phone someone on the other side shouted “Tam, are you okay? You stopped talking for a moment and I was getting worried.” I put the phone up to my ear and replied to the voice,
“This isn’t Tam. It’s her husband.”
The last thing I heard was the other person {I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman} say “Oh shit,” right before hanging up. I was mad, very pissed actually. I went to her side of the bed and nudged her on the shoulder. She wouldn’t move so I rolled her over and saw that her eyes were wide open. She had a line mark around her neck and she wasn’t breathing right, at least she was breathing. I took the same phone and dialed 911.
“911 operator how may I help you,” the girl said.
“We need to get my wife some help right now. She isn’t breathing… I think… she’s been strangled but she is still alive.”
“Okay what is the address of your location,”
She asks all calm so I tell her, “Just trace the call okay I’m very scared. I know mouth to mouth so I will perform that while the ambulance comes. Bye.” I tossed the phone over Tam and start doing C.P.R until my lungs were hurting and was on the point of having a blackout. This continued for about 10 minutes before the professional medical team busted my door down {I still hate myself for locking it} and took her away.
I followed the ambulance with Tam’s car and waited for hours trying to keep a low profile. Being back at the hospital that thought I was dead wasn’t really a comforting feeling.
“She is stable now but we found out something that will shock you,” said one of the doctors. His name tag said his name was Gage Hoffman. He took a deep breath and, without hesitation, said, “The wounds were self inflicted.”
Nothing can mess up your day more than hearing someone tell you that someone you hold close to your heart has just tried to kill themselves. My day went downhill from there, besides dive-bombing the dead guy. I sat and saw that the file was still under my shirt. I shook it out and opened it. The contents were what made me hold my breath.
About five years ago I had signed some papers for organ donation. My choice was heart donation and when I was dead they removed it in Italy and instantly put it in another guy. The folder had pictures of the surgery and the papers I had signed. I threw the folder on the coffee table in front of me and instantly felt for a heartbeat. The file wasn’t lying; I had no beat and no pulse. A nurse had rushed over asking me questions.
“Are you okay sir,” she asked. I had two choices 1. Tell her I’m fine and risk death or 2. Say I have no heart beat and get stuck in the same position Tam is now but with people lined up outside thinking I’m Jesus. I went with choice 1 and sent her on her way. I went to see Tam a few hours later after getting permission to stay overnight. I was very tired again so I sat back in the reclining chair and turned on the T.V. the news was talking about a dead man walking… me. I just laughed and passed out.

Chapter 4
Present day
The way this man in front of me jumped to parts of my life without first explaining himself is kind of humorous.
I just had to ask him, “Who are you?” he moves and, finally, walks out into the light like it was his enemy. What caught me off guard was that his face was one of many. His shape keeps changing once I got an image inscribed in my brain of the last one. I have a headache.
“I am hard to explain,” he says. I regain the sanity I lost from the constant change of people this man keeps going through. He doesn’t have to explain. I can see the faces now and they are of tortured and frightened people.
“Are you the devil,” I ask.
“You can call me that.” I can see that he has fear in his eyes.
“Are you okay? You look scared,” I ask not really caring why.
“I’m fine. The fear you see is the fear of millions,” he replies. I guess that’s how he watches over his work when he’s not around
“Are you responsible for me still being alive,” I ask.
“Yes but you wouldn’t understand.”
“What do you need me for,” I ask in a low tone. I don’t want to speak anymore. I just want to sleep.
“Nothing really. I’m just checking on you and your memory,” he replies. I sit in my sweat and anger going through the steps of how to get out. “You are free to go,” he says. That was easy. The door opens behind me without anyone touching it and with no one on the other side(show off). “Alastair ,” he says, “ go home.” I could, if only I knew how.
“ I can’t,” I say.
He asks, “Why?” I think he forgot and that proves how good of a leader he is.
“I don’t know where I am at the moment. You think you can help,” I ask in a smartass tone. His expression changed fast and I flinched a little as he moved closer.
“You go outside and then get in the red car,” he halfway whispers to me. I stand up and watch his every move as I leave.
Outside was downtown Denver. The street is busy and the sun hurts my eyes. I try to make a clear view of the street name but instead found myself getting grabbed by the shoulder. Someone is leading me around objects that are nothing but a blur. I still can’t see anything due to the light but I can make out silhouettes and outlines of things that get in my way. I see a red blob with dark sides and realize that this is the car. I feel around looking for the handle and ask the person leading me to open it. This person has long hair from what I can see so it’s hard to decide if it’s a guy or a girl. He or she opens up the door and helps me in. I get comfortable in the back seat as the door closes. As we start to drive away my vision comes back.
“Who was that helping me,” I ask the driver.
He looks at me through the rear view mirror and replies “Who is who?”
I yawn and say “Never mind it.” I turn my head left and fall asleep.
I feel someone kicking me lightly in the side and hear “wake up.”
Without opening my eyes I say “the fuck? Get away from me.” I open my eyes and get a look at this person. He’s some homeless guy and he looks drunk from what I can see. I am laying in an alleyway on some broken glass and possibly this guys home.
I jump up and say “ I’m so sorry about falling asleep here,” even though It wasn’t my fault.
“ It’s cool man,” the homeless guy says. I just slowly back out and make my way down the street. I’m not far from home but I still don’t see why he dumped me off right here. Right up the street is a memory I want to forget and the other way is where she is now
Tam is held at the Colorado Department of Corrections for attacking her nurse with a crutch. She was never drugged or anything. The only drug in her was that crap they give you to knock you out. Tam just simply went insane.
I start to walk home when something hits me on the top of the head. Migraine, I just know it. I lean against the wall and close my eyes. I look around and continue walking. Good, I made it home without face planting the pavement. I open up a beer and grab some ibuprofen. I spread out on the couch and look at my reflection in the TV. Most people frown upon what I see right now. My hair is going in every direction possible and I look like I haven’t showered in weeks. I pop the pill in my mouth and sip at the beer. Showering isn’t such a bad idea right now but all my clothes are in the wash. The only things I have left are some dress shirts and a pair of nice pants I wore to my friend’s wedding but got wine on them and cut a hole in them. I throw the pants away and walk down the hall to the laundry room. Some sweats and shirts are sitting in the dryer which has been run through the hour cycle. I grab some black shorts I found under all the sweats and a blue shirt that’s a little small on me. I close the dryer door and put my clean stuff down so I can look in the washer. The washer is empty so I grab my clothes again and head out.
My shower is one that can spray water from the sides and the top at the same time so I take a warm, ten minute shower and shave after to top it off. I look less drunk now and my headache is going away. I was still shocked at the fact I had just conversed with the devil and that he let me go without hesitation. I still get the feeling that I have to watch my back and check corners even though I know he wouldn’t try anything to kill me. I have many reasons to hate him but mostly today I just don’t like waking up in places I don’t know. I sit in a reclining chair and crack my neck in about 3 locations.
I can’t die I now realize. I can’t live either. I shouldn’t be alive right now but some force is wanting me on earth. I was never involved in any religion or did I ever want to be. I believe in God but I never had solid proof. All we ever had were what the Bible says and people who came back from the dead. They explain that they saw a blinding light and then meet up with their long lost relative’s right before that flat line stops making that horrible noise and starts beeping. I bet families of the survivors will always remember the pattern of the heart monitor and the first thing they say after experiencing death. I laughed at death and it didn’t care.
The phone is ringing but I don’t get it. The answering machine picks it up.
“ Hey Agar if your around I need to talk to you,” it’s Rich, an old friend of mine. He’s probably mad that I missed the planed dinner with him and his wife yesterday. “Agar we’re worried.”
I grab the phone and cut him off. “ What’s wrong,” I ask, expecting the worst.
He replies, “We missed you at the dinner party and then we couldn’t get a hold of you.”
I say, “I know and I’m sorry. Things just came up and I had no free time yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” he asks, “ That dinner was over a month ago.”