The Drazen World: Purgatory (Kindle Worlds Novella)

the burst of laughter erupted from my mouth and echoed across the empty room. I wasn't amused, I was annoyed.
"You're God's PA? What, do you fetch his coffee and make photocopies for him?" I asked him between fits of maniacal giggles.
"Everyone has a personal assistant these days, Gabby. Even God needs a second right-hand." There may have been a bit of humor in his voice but I couldn't be sure.
"Jesus, this is unreal. This is just a ridiculous coma-induced dream and Monica is sitting next to me blabbering about something or other while I'm lying on an uncomfortable hospital bed. Ohmygod, I need to wake up. This gray is driving me crazy." That just made me laugh even harder because who was I kidding? I was already fucking cray-cray, right? That's what everyone used to tell me.
"No, Gabby. My name is Ernest and I'll be evaluating your exit from Purgatory. Whether you go to the Penthouse or the Basement is up to you. I have to say though, if you keep using the Lord's name in vain, you may end up on the fireman's pole with a one-way ticket down."
His words had a sobering effect, causing my laughter to die. Silence hung in the air like a cold mist on a winter's morning. "What does that even mean?" I had to shake my head, trying desperately to disperse the fog that had taken permanent residence in my mind.
"Essentially, you are neither here, nor there. This is merely a waiting room before we decide where you belong for the rest of eternity. Whether you take the elevator up or down is entirely your decision. Or more accurately, your evolution throughout your stay will be the deciding factor. Each resident has his or her own suite with the bare necessities. No colors, no sounds, no variations. Only your thoughts upon which to reflect."
Perfect. I had never been able to save myself before, so essentially, I was again destined to fail.
But then, I had already known that.
"Shouldn't this be a cut and dry case? I mean, I caused my own death, right? I understand that my religious knowledge is limited but I'm pretty sure suicide is a big no-no in your world. Why don't you just press the down button and get rid of me? One less sinner on board. Bam. Done. Next!" My arms waved around like a person drowning in a sea of despair. Oh, Irony, will you ever leave my side?
"That's not how it works, Gabby. If life, or death in this case, were so simple, the human race wouldn't be destroying itself at every turn. We are not convinced that your actions were purely suicidal. Thus the need to evaluate and judge the facts. All of these books written about our Maker and His history were written by men, therefore by definition, they are not always accurate. The Bible, the Koran, the Torah and every other guideline basically tell the same story but all essentially lack important facts." Chuckling at some internal joke, he shook his head slightly and pinned me with a gaze so intense I couldn't help but flinch. "Only those who come face to face with me can hope to understand, eventually. All others are merely guessing." His words penetrated my confusion, clearing my addled thoughts. Unfortunately, the questions kept adding up.
"My understanding of," I swept my arms around to show the vast expanse of the room and beyond, "all this, was that Purgatory was merely a waiting room for Heaven. I mean, if you were destined to Hell then, I don't know, down you went? No passing Go and no collecting your two hundred dollars." As I said those words, I idly wondered if Ernest, here, even got my reference to the age old Monopoly game.
Judging by his tentative smile, it seemed God's PA was very well familiar with America's favorite family game.
"Some cases are, indeed, cut and dry, Gabby. Suicide, however, never is. We cannot allow a good soul to burn in the depths of fire simply because of its profound suffering. That would make us more evil than Satan, himself. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" His words were coated in jest. Had he just made a joke? Cue in the Twilight Zone theme song and my experience would be complete.
Ernest rose, extended his hand and smiled which was more expression than he'd had all throughout the meeting.
"We'll meet again, Gabby, but before we do I need you to reflect. Step inside of yourself and take inventory." With those parting words, he nodded in sign of goodbye and stepped away.
I snorted, a bad habit I'd learned from Monica when we were younger. I would reflect until the cows came home but it didn't mean I'd get any milk out of it. At least none that wasn't spoilt. But here I was, being given a last chance to search my soul and as much as I wanted to throw out some type of sarcastic, unhelpful comment, I found myself throwing out an unconvincing "Sure, whatever," as I shrugged my shoulders in near resignation. It wasn't as though I had anything better to do.
Before I had time to rise from my seat and wander around my newfound home, I heard Ernest behind me, addressing me in his hypnotically calm voice, "I want you to write music in your head. Something new. Time here is of no consequence so I'll just tell you that I'll be back soon. Follow the signs for room twenty-six, that will be your suite." Having made his request, which sounded more like homework than anything else, he smiled again and turned, walking out the door without making the slightest sound.
"Bye bye, then, Mr. God's PA." I muttered before following him out the door and locating the signs that guided me to my new residence.
Writing music was my only comfort. Thankfully, he