[Writing Prompt] When people die they can choose whether they go to Heaven or Hell, you are the first in 1000 years to choose Hell.
Heaven’s Train
The train conductor stared at Paul from down the aisle.
For a millennium, the train to hell had not left the station. Every single day, tens of thousands of people passed through Central, and every single one of them made the obvious choice and went to heaven.
There was nothing surprising about this of course. Who wouldn’t choose heaven over hell?
This kid apparently.
Paul sat alone in the middle of the train, the conductor’s very first unaccompanied minor. He couldn’t be more than ten years old.
When people died they came to Central wearing a gray suit. If they chose heaven, that suit turned white and they boarded a train packed to the gills with other white-suited people eager to make the journey to God’s paradise.
If someone chose hell, then the suit turned dark black. Paul wore the black suit, tailored to his small frame, and a sad, frightened look as he watched the other revelers through the window of the otherwise empty train car.
The conductor looked out the window himself. Out there a veritable army of people, good, evil, and indifferent, crushed each other to get onto heaven’s train. Paul meanwhile sighed to himself and did not move, even though he was clearly terrified.
A rumble of the engine warming up for the first time in a 1000 years shook the train slightly. The conductor considered the situation and decided he couldn’t live with himself without at least investigating. He walked over to Paul, small and alone in his seat, and just stood over him, watching Paul watch the hoard of people outside.
“That’s a lot of people, huh?”
Paul turned around, startled, and the conductor saw that the kid’s eyes were red and puffy, as though he had been crying. “Huh?” He asked, his voice high pitched and scared.
The conductor pointed out to the other train car. “All of those people. There’s a lot of them. They all look pretty happy to go to heaven, don’t you think?”
Paul looked back and spoke quietly as he faced the window. “I guess.” His face took on a rueful look. “Who wouldn’t want to go to heaven?”
Now the conductor was really flummoxed. The plot thickens he thought to himself. Then he began, “you know, a thousand years ago heaven and hell didn’t work like this. Back then, you didn’t choose where you wanted to go. You were judged and you went where you deserved.” The conductor turned around and gestured to the empty train car. “Back then, this train was not empty – and that train was less full.”
Paul turned away from the window and looked down in front of him. “Why did they change it?”
The conductor shrugged, “I don’t know. Above my pay grade.” Then the conductor leaned in. “But in all that time, only one other person has ever chosen to go to hell. I respected that man. You see, he was a real bad man. He had done real bad things, for a long time. And when the time came, he made the hard choice and took his punishment.”
With a worried look, the conductor looked over at Paul, his face softening. “Now, I don’t know you… um”
Paul looked up worriedly, “Paul.”
“Paul,” the conductor continued, “I don’t know you. But something tells me you might have gotten on the wrong train.”
Paul shook his head and started to cry. “No, I know what train I’m on. I belong here.”
The conductor sucked his front teeth. “Well, what did you do Paul? What terrible thing could you possibly of done.”
Paul spoke through his tears, sobbing in between words. “I told my mom I hated her.”
The conductor raised an eyebrow, “what else?”
“That’s it.”
The conductor put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Well, Paul, that’s not such a big deal, buddy. We all say things we don’t mean. You don’t go to hell for things like that.”
Paul looked up, his eyes full of tears, and raised his voice. “She was dying! She had cancer! I told my mom I hated her because she was leaving. It was the last thing I ever said to her!” Paul looked back out the window, tears streaming down his cheeks, “it was the last thing I ever said.”
There was a pause filled only with the rumble of the train engine.
The conductor sighed. This would not do. He leaned down and put his hand on Paul’s small shoulder. “Hey,” Paul didn’t look, “Hey, look at me.” Reluctantly, Paul turned and looked into the conductor’s eyes. “Remember, I haven’t seen anyone else on this train in 1000 years. No one. your mom included. You know what that means?”
Paul blinked and thought for a moment. “She’s in heaven?”
The conductor nodded kindly. “You’re a sharp one. Now, I don’t want to presume anything, but I think you’d probably like to see her again?”
Paul nodded slowly.
“And, it seems to me,” the conductor gave Paul a sad little smile, “she’d like to see you, hear you tell her how sorry you are, don’t you think?”
Paul thought for a moment and nodded again. Then he looked down, “But, what if she doesn’t forgive me?” He asked.
The conductor sighed again. This kid he thought to himself. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that Paul.”
The train began to slowly inch forward and the Conductor knew there wasn’t any more time. “Time to go, kid,” he said, taking Paul by the hand. Paul followed the conductor down the length of the aisle, to the door out to the platform. The conductor opened the door and Paul hesitated for a moment and jumped. He landed on the concrete, stumbling a little from the slight momentum of the train, and the moment his feet touched the ground, his little black kid-sized suit turned gray again.
The train to hell came to a screeching halt. Paul looked back at the conductor and waved once. Then, bravely, he turned toward the train to heaven.
The conductor watched from the doorway as the young boy ran toward the train, his gray suit turning white as he went. When Paul made it onto the train, it began churning its way out of the station. Paul turned around, found the conductor, and waved again, still sad, but wearing a glimmer of hope.
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