In those lingering moments I decided that death really was the only escape. In some faint hope, I felt that maybe heaven would accept me—no matter how petty and low I was. I knew how foolish that was, but I wanted to believe.

I awoke to an eerie and crimson glow that literally consumed the entire sky above me. I knew something was wrong, after all I could last recall that I watched the night sky as I stood in the field just outside my home. It was far out in the country just off of the mountainside, I'd lived there for years; alone and secluded I enjoyed the peace that it offered me. It was originally my grandfather's home, and upon his death he had given it to me. I was incredibly pleased and honored he chose me—although he hadn't much else to choose from at all, most of family, our family, had passed on or was estranged.

I remembered watching the stars, taking in every bit of light I could, taking in every subtle breath of freedom I could; these were my final moments after all. I was young, just over my 25th birthday; I smiled at the celebration I had with my friends that night. Still reminiscing, I raised my arm, gently applying pressure until I felt the barrel of the gun to my head. I had failed to adjust to the world, I failed to meet the balance quota that was needed to be a worthy human being. I had struggled with this sort of depression for years, but as I spent my final days out here, it won the battle. I didn't feel bad, I didn't feel that I was letting anyone down—I simply felt that I was relieving the world of another human, and that my friends could do fine without me. As for my family, we hardly kept in touch anyway.

I rested my finger on the trigger, smiling at my rather generic situation. I never believed in heaven or hell or any sort or religious structure, despite my grandfather's attempts at pulling in his final days. I loved everyone I could, and dealt with those I despised with the most neutrality I could manage. I simply went along with my life, doing the motions and actions to pass as stable. I knew that eventually I would collapse though, and I was waiting patiently for it. Finally it had come.

I took one last look of the stars above me, their glory captivating me as a single tear fell.

I wasn't melancholic anymore, I wasn't angry or displeased, I was simply neutral and stoic. I was prepared to move on, and it was then that I took my last breath; pulling the trigger.

Again I checked the sky, and sure enough it was a crimson shade. In fact, it looked like an ethereal twilight of sorts. Where was I? Had I failed to end myself? No—this didn't look anything like my home or the plains surrounding it. I stared out at the seemingly calm lake before me, while it seemed ridiculous to think—the sky made it look blood red, a deep and thick scarlet. There was something vaguely unsettling about it. I stood up and looked behind me, no sooner my mouth had fell agape at what I saw.

First and foremost, out in the distance, I could see a house. It was rather quaint and cozy looking, yet it seemed off—almost dated. Perhaps it was the architecture itself or just the atmosphere but it seemed out of place; I only had moments to think this however. There, directly before me was a field of orange flowers. This wasn't any tiny field, it was a mass of flowers as that engulfed the land between me and the house. I was stunned at this as well; an ocean of tiger lilies completely washed ashore at my feet.

Yet these things were only minor questionings, for what stood in the sea of lilies was like nothing I had ever seen. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers into them; surely this was a dream, an illusion that death had whispered to me as my consciousness was fading.

I stood there for what felt like eons, feeling the soft breeze brush up against my face. I quietly recalled my family and friends, and what I had left behind in the end. Finally, and somewhat frightfully I opened my eyes, bracing myself.

The thing that I saw in the field had gotten closer, in fact it stood only a few meters in front of me now. I briefly stared up at the eerie sky, what was this place?

The thing was a young girl, she looked to be in her early teens in fact. At first I felt my eyes trying to adjust, I couldn't believe what I was looking at—it seemed so bizarre considering the circumstances. She had on a dark and rather surreal kimono, with strange floral insignias dancing upon it. They seemed to drift and sway in the breeze with the kimono itself it looked, again making me check my eyes. She was small enough that the enormous mass of flowers we stood in almost came up to her hips. Her hair was long, and a deep and almost engulfing black that made me somewhat dizzy to look at—the same shade her outfit had. Her complexion was fair and flawless, a smooth and pale image. The real part that made this dreamy experience seem the most unreal was her face. She had a very small set of lips, and an equally tiny nose. More than either, I was immediately frozen by her rather bulbous red eyes that nearly made my already stopped heart stop once more.

While she was very beautiful, there was no doubt the macabre and sinister atmosphere she had. I felt an ancient aura to her, a very old and timeless presence that made me feel so small, so young. There was no doubt she was powerful—in what sort of magicks I could only guess. I couldn't move at all, her gaze had literally paralyzed me there in the dream.

"Is this really happening?" I whispered to myself as I stood there captivated.

She said nothing, she simply stared straight through me.

I felt she could see all of my sins, all of my shortcomings and failures. I felt open, sickly awakened to her sight—however involuntarily. How she did was no question those horrid and hypnotic eyes of hers; their beauty only barely hid her deathly infinity.

I stared at her, awaiting a response. The silence was driving me to madness, I needed something, anything to be said—to confirm I wasn't simply a mirage here.

She slowly looked down at the flowers before us, reaching out and brushing her hand ever so delicately against one of them. Even her motion seemed unreal and perfect, ghostly and inhuman. Finally she somewhat closed her enormous eyes and sighed, picking one of the flowers off of its stem.

"You have committed a very deep sin," she said. Her voice was unbelievably soft, almost dreary. It was mesmerizing though, by then I was used to that attribute on her.

I froze, now I knew that she was aware of my recent doing. More than that though, I became aware that this was some sort of purgatory, or was it Hell itself? It seemed far too calm and peaceful to be the fabled land of fire and brimstone. Who was she?

"Who-who are you?" I barely choked out.

She looked back up at me, her eyes sending a deep and indescribable chill down my spine. She seemed somewhat upset I had asked that, I could see a faint displeasure on her face. I felt a bit frightened, this was no small issue—I didn't want to make her angry.

"I am simply one that will see you off," she said.

I shuttered, 'see me off?'

"What do you mean? Where are we?" I said, becoming increasingly confused. Who would've thought suicide would be this complicated?

She pressed the flower up to her nose, then gently let it go in the breeze.

"This is the forefront of Hell," she replied, pointing off to a strangely dark area in the distance beyond the lake of blood. So it was true, this was Hell. I suppose I wasn't surprised, after all suicide was commonly known to be a rather distasteful and uncouth sin—and there was no way of attaining any sort of forgiveness after it was done. In effect, I had doomed myself. Yet, I knew this may happen, despite my disbelief in the subject. I was ready to face the devils or whatever had congealed in the horrid depths. I couldn't imagine the suffering and torture I'd face, but I knew there most likely was no escape. I had felt this type of hopelessness all of my life, now it was solid, legitimate, and real.

"I guess—I guess I'm ready, show me the way," I said. There was no denying it, I was becoming increasingly frightened, but as I said, I had already realized the futility.

I turned back to see the house and flowers gone. Before me now stood a desert, an endless expanse of sand and dunes as far as I could see. The sky darkened to a thick and oily black, like the girl's hair—even giving off the same sensation. She stood there in her same spot, her eyes aglow in the dark. I turned to face the lake of blood and was met with more desert, more infinite and bleak expanse.

"What is this?" I said, turning back to her.

"The Deserts of Melancholy, this is your punishment. For the rest of your sentence, you will wander these freezing deserts until—" her face when somewhat sullen, she went quiet and stared off into the distance. Her hair gently danced in the breeze, which I suddenly realized was freezing.

"Until what?" I asked, worried.

She kept staring, then looked over at me.

"Why would you forsake the ones you loved? Was it worth this?" she said, I sensed nothing but cold behind her voice. There was not emotional investment, just detest for me and my decision.

I didn't know how to respond.

"It was choice I had wanted to make for a long time. I guess, I guess I was just ready to die," I eventually said, staring down at my hands. I was getting colder, and this was not getting any less real.

She looked at me with that same blank stare; I sensed she was trying to figure out what to say.

"How foolish, tis not your decision," she finally said.

"And why not?!" I replied, somewhat irritated. Was she some sort of judge? Had she any right to look down on me? As if a demon of the nether realm could look down on anyone else—the madness! But there was no doubt, I was in her realm, this was my doing.

She remained quiet, and simply brushed her hair aside, looking off into the distance again.

"It doesn't matter. Good luck, enjoy your stay," she said, turning away.

Was she leaving? She really was leaving me here, alone. Would I stumble upon other doomed souls as well? I suppose I wouldn't freeze to death. I guess my punishment was beginning effective immediately.

"Wa—wait, what's your name? Who are you?" I murmured, my energy slipping from me as the horrible realization sunk in on me.

She stopped after a few steps, slowly turning and gazing at me again. In that last moment I felt time freeze, I felt still as ever. There was no wind, no fear, no terror. I felt a strange peace—I couldn't explain it.

"You may call me Ai," she said.

With that she turned and began to walk away, slowly fading into the dark. The wind picking up the sand had begun stinging me as I turned to face my cold punishment. I whispered her name to myself. For some strange reason it made me feel a lot better. It brought an odd solace in that bleak purgatory, I suppose because she was all I had as any sort of foundation here. The way that she said that left the conversation open; deep down I suppose I hoped that meant that someday we would meet again. I would like that, hopefully under better circumstances as well. I repeated her name again and again as I thought of her serene beauty.

I thought of her as I walked off into the desert, into the sand storm. The freezing darkness consumed every one of my senses; eventually I felt the pains of intense frostbite and the agony of starvation—yet every moment I could I thought of Ai. As I dissipated into the infinity of the desert, she was my only anchor.

If there were anything that we as the damned were to have as we rotted away in these wastelands, it was the image of her, and the brief peace she brought, and the hope that perhaps we'd see her again someday, somewhere else, and finally be at the peace we so desired in waking life.