THE DIARY OF A PERVERTED CELIBATE (CHAPTER X)
Published:9 Mar, 2010
He did not speak a language I understood but still I heard him in English. It was as if I had a kind of internal translator. At this point I wondered why I did not just go to hell because this whole drama being its gate makes it look like my initial imagination of what hell would look and feel like will be totally off the mark. Zentha Lu’ Zuatha does sound like some Chinese name but this Zentha does not even look anyway human. His face appeared to fill what to me will be the skies of the gate of hell. NO MAN GOES TO HELL WITHOUT SEEING FOR ONE LAST TIME HOW HIS LIFE’S JOURNEY LED HIM MY PATH. NOW ONE AFTER ANOTHER YOU WILL SEE YOUR LIVES BEFORE YOU AND SEE WHY ZENTHA HAS NONE BUT ONE CHOICE. One after another? I was left wondering what Zentha meant when I finally saw six other people. From the way they were also looking around and at me, each of them also only just realised he or she was not Zentha’s only company. Here we have four men and three ladies. All the ladies did not look beautiful as I would be lying if I said that. They are beautiful. They probably were the ones men used as the epitome of beauty. Most ladies look beautiful but a select few help give meaning to beauty. These ones are of the top echelon of that select percentile. If this had been anywhere else I know I’d be with one or two of them tonight and the third by morning but believe me when I say that did not even cross my mind. My mind was occupied by what Zentha had just said. My life playing out in front of these folks will amount to an unending series of sex, heart breaks, abortions and all of those things that dominated my existence. How can this guy do this? Should I just plead guilty if this is some kind of court or what? Who will be the first to object? I know who won’t. I stopped being brave the moment I crossed the divide between life and death. Does it mean I will see these ladies getting screwed? If that is the price for being exposed to them it sounds like a good bargain to me. So who goes first? CHARLIZE MAROON, THIS IS YOUR LIFE AS LIVED BY YOU! As soon as Zentha said that, we found ourselves sitting in a perfectly circular room and right before our eyes was the Life of Charlize Maroon. All six of us apart from Charlize sat in a way that were you to draw a line from one person to the nearest, you would have drawn a perfect hexagon. Each of us was the vertex of a hexagon while Charlize sat in the middle.
Wherever you looked in the room you’d see Charlize’s mother kiss the young five year old Charlize good night. Two minutes after the mum left her, Charlize still thinking of how lucky she was to have her mum, heard the gun shots five times. Her mother had been shot dead but she said enough before she finally gave up the ghost. Charlize had heard enough to be a taker of lives. She was five.