by Joseph Ikhenoba


This is a story about victims who were condemned to their fate.

Anna was led into a dark room with no electricity, cell phone, mattress and television. She was devoid of every pleasures. The man who led her to the room didn't speak much. The only words he muttered were "This is your new home." Then, bolted the back gate. The room was so small to contain only a wooden chair. Anna knew she had died.

"But could this be the hell?" She thought.

On earth, she had lived a bad life. Her last memory was being hospitalized after falling from a stair. She walked closer to the front gate, only to see faint rays of light passed through a narrow aperture. She could see a vivid view of three other rooms but not a clear view of the inmates. She could hear voices whispering with despair. Suddenly, she shouted:


The voices answered.

"What's your name?" Tom asked.

"Anna!" She replied.

The other inmates introduced themselves and queried why they were there.

"I thought we have been condemned to our fate. On earth, I was a gambler and drunkard. I treated my family badly. One night, I came back drunk and shot her. Before I could be arrested, I committed suicide." Tom added soberly.

"It must be a bad faith." Said Anna.

"Not really. Series of bad decisions." The man replied lugubriously.

Anna turned to the next inmate.

"My life was nothing to write about. I was a hardened criminal. I had killed so many people. Greed, lust and unforgiveness ran through my vein. One morning, I robbed a bank with my gang, only to be shot dead. My greatest fear are the people I have killed. I just hope they don't call for my head." Eric broke down.

The last inmate was Victoria, a prostitute, who conceded to bodily pleasures at all time. She narrated how she left her parents home and took to the streets at a young age. Then, she walked in the company of bad friends, until she was shot by a client over an argument.

Anna just couldn't figure the right words to explain her mental torture. It was as if she doesn't exist. Every day, each one was reclused to his or her thoughts, knowing they would never get out.

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