Inquisitive: Part 5
By Hassan Izzo
“Say something.” I said, watching Kevin as he processed everything I had just told him. “I know it’s crazy but….”
“I don’t think it’s crazy.”
“It’s the question everyone wants the answer to right? Even people like us who don’t believe in things like heaven still wonder about it. How can you really be sure there’s just nothing when you die?”
“But, you know it wouldn’t prove anything right? Like, if you saw something, came back and tried to tell people, the only people who would listen would be people who believed in that stuff anyway.”
“It will prove something to me… But you’d believe me right?” Kevin nodded in response. “Even though there’s only dead. I mean I know that, but I need to know that.”
“I don’t get how you plan on doing this though.”
“That’s what this is for.” I held up the plastic bag I had in my hand. “If I put this over my head, it will be a real struggle to actually pass out and my body will really think I’m dying. When I do finally pass out, that’s dead right? Close enough anyway. There’ll be no oxygen going to my brain.” I’d been speaking quickly, hyped up with excitement. When I stopped I realised that Kevin looked worried for the first time. “It’ll be fine, it takes three minutes for brain death through lack of oxygen, at least that’s what I read, but I won’t be out that long. Give it a minute and a half, then take the bag off. The air will flood back in and I’ll start breathing.” Kevin now had a look I never saw before I embarked on one of my schemes. This was the look that came after, the peaky one, where he looked pale and you could see him mentally trying to control the rising tide in his stomach. “You sure you want to help?”
“OK. My body will kick back in. It will. You just need to make sure the bag stays tight over my head until I pass out, even when I start fighting and flailing around. If there’s anything on the other side, I’ll see it. I just need you to stay focused.” Kevin nodded. He still looked peaky but I trusted him for the job. The best course of action was just to get on with it, so I placed the bag over my head and gripped it tight so no air could get in. As I had expected – or rather hoped – Kevin sprang into action and watched me intently. He’d be fine now until it was over. I kept my grip and waited….
A black corridor. A narrow, seemingly endless black corridor. This is what greeted me in answer to the question of whether there was anything on the other side. A dim light, barely bright enough to enable me to see ahead, emanated from the floor. It was impossible to tell how long I had been here for. I had on the clothes I had been wearing before I had passed over, but my watch and phone were gone and trying to estimate time in my head was an impossible task. It was like that part of my brain had been switched off. Time was now an abstract concept. Every time I reached for a number mentally I couldn’t, my chain of thought simply floated away into nothingness. On and on and on I went, and still the corridor stretched out ahead as far as I could see with no end in sight. I tried to go left but was met with an invisible barrier. It was the same when I tried to go right and when I tried to go back the way I came. All I could do was continue to move forward. There were no signs or other people or any indication of what I had to do. How would I ever get back? I started to panic.
Like any other writer, Hassan Antonio Izzo is happiest when he is sat at his desk putting words down on paper; whether it be updating his blog, working on a short story, script, poetry, journalism, or wrestling with his first novel. If anything stands a chance of getting him away from his desk, a few drinks with friends would stand a good one. His biggest claim to fame is that Quentin Tarantino loved his Mr T t-shirt when he met him; which was pretty cool.
A proud South Londoner, you can follow on Twitter @Hassanizzo86