Encountering Sloth
I blinked.
Upon opening my eyes, I found myself standing in a long narrow hallway.
Where am I now? I thought.
No, why am I here?
Three colors dominated the hallway I stood in, the grey that stretched across the ground as carpet, the dull white that was the walls. And the single red door at the end of the hallway. Suddenly it all clicked. I was at my apartment, or at least whatever rendition of it. But if this was my apartment…
I looked at both sides of the walls, which greeted me with their pale bland paint job.
Where are the doors?
There was only the one red door at the very end of the hallway. I guess that’s where I’m supposed to go. I slowly turned and began walking towards it. The hallway was dead silent, save for the sound of my feet thumping across the weathered carpet. After what seemed like an endless walk, I found myself facing the door. There was nothing special about it at first glance, it was brightly colored red as if it was newly painted, while the frame of the door was a golden yellow. What was behind this door? No, who is behind this door?
Click
Before I could lose myself in an endless sea of questions, the lock clicked. It was unlocked. There was no other place to go, nowhere to go but in. I took a deep breath before gently gripping the door handle and slowly pushed myself in.
Spotless. The apartment was spotless. Everything from the stove to the counter and the sink, everything was perfectly clean. Almost as if no one touched the place. But from what I remembered this building was the apartment complex I lived in, and the only door in the entire place was this one. So, this has to be my apartment, right?
Click, click, click
There it was again, the clicking. Only this time it wasn’t from any lock on the door, it was from something else completely. Deeper inside the apartment.
Click, click, click
The clicking continued as I walked past the kitchen into the living room. Just like the kitchen, it was free of any stain, dirt or grim.
Click, click, click
I made my way to the bathroom and just like the kitchen and the living room it was in pristine condition.
Click, click, click, click, click, click, click
The clicking intensified as if it knew I was drawing near. There was only one last place to check. My room.
I walked across the wooden floor towards the long dark pathway that surely lead to my room. The sound of my footsteps eagerly following along.
Thump, thump, thump
Three steps.
Click, click, click
Three clicks.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump
Five steps.
Click, click, click, click, click
Five clicks.
I began to walk faster, faster until I broke into a dash.
Thump, click, thump, click, thump, click, thump, click
Thump.
I stopped the moment I saw it, the door. At the last thump of my steps, the clicking stopped. Silence began to take its rightful place. The door was nothing special, just your average plain, whitely painted door. But I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Because behind that door is…
“God, can you just go away? How long are you going to stand there?”
The voice was glazed in apathy yet seasoned with a bit of annoyance.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone, anyone to come here, I enjoy my personal time here alone quite a lot so I really don’t want visitors.”
There was a small pause of silence. What broke it was the sound of a drawer being pulled from inside.
“Come to think about it, no one can come in here, the only guy, visitor, guest, whatever that can come in here is…hm….”
The voice spoke like a child that was asked a question and had to answer, but didn’t care to. Nevertheless, there was another moment of silence.
Only a moment.
SLAM!
From inside the room there was a crash of what I would assume was the drawer.
“Why does it have to be you?”
The voice was now glazed in something other than apathy.
Resentment.
Click, click, click
The clicks were suddenly becoming more familiar, they were coming from a controller.
“So? What do you want? Just so you know if it requires effort from my part you can kindly screw off please.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out. There was no sound but the clicking of the controller.
“Oh, that’s right… you’re not allowed to talk in our domains, even though you own all of us? That must suck huh? Perhaps that rule this there so you won’t be able to openly refute anything we tell you, maybe? So that you’re put in a situation where you can only to listen to who you really are from us, your sins? Either way for me that’s pretty great so I don’t have to listen to you- “
The voice, stopped suddenly, as if something eventful had happened in the small room hidden beyond the door that stood in front of me. As abruptly as the voice stopped, it exploded right back.
“FUCK! Are you kidding me? How can this guy spam projectiles all match and win? Why can’t you fight me like a real man and make it fun? I can’t believe that-”
The voice, its glistened apathy now evaporated by sheer anger verbally froze as if remembering there was someone else in the cleanly vacant apartment.
“Eh, I don’t care anymore, the voice said, apathy slowly oozing back into its words. This game just sucks, its not me, I’m pretty godlike, it can’t be me.”
The drawer opened and closed again presumably with the controller now inside. What followed was a huge sigh.
“Now you’re REALLY bothering me. Honestly. Can’t even express myself freely in the comfort of my own home. It’s a shame, a real tragedy, but to you its probably a comedy huh?”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Once again clicks invaded the apartment, but this time it was the clicking of a mouse, followed by the clattering of a keyboard and then the scrolling of a mouse.
“Might as well get into business, though I would rather not to, but you’re here and won’t go away until we do so, sooo… when you’re ready just say the word, I’m all ears.”
There was no sound but clattering, clicking, and scrolling.
“Hmm? Listen man, I know I said I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t expect you to not want to do it either. Come on dude, speak up! Be proactive, that’s what we were taught since we were kids right? If you don’t reach out and ask for help no one will know the pain you’re struggling with you know?”
Resentment and bitterness tinged every word that the voice spoke, there was no apathy to be heard of.
“Oh right, you can’t talk, haha funny right? You can only listen, only hear what I have to say, and believe me I have a lot to say.”
There was a rolling sound coming from the room, presumably from a rolling chair he was sitting in.
“Whats the point of trying? Whats the point of putting in effort? Whats the point in sacrifice to pursue some lofty goal? Can you tell me?”
The questions hung heavy in the air with nothing to dissipate them. The voice continued.
“There once was a kid born, whose name was____. From birth and early years ____ was no doubt far above the rest of the other kids. When it came to school, no one could match the grades ___ made, nor could they hope to beat him in a race, or any physical activity for that matter. A prodigy, that’s what ___was, it brought his family joy, the child’s loved ones were proud and always proclaimed that the child was their pride, which brought the child, ___ happiness. As long as ___ could perform and achieve the results ___ was happy. Why? Because the child’s loved ones would give him nonstop praise and affirmation.”
“You’re so smart ___!”
“Good job ____!”
“We’re proud of you ___!”
“You’re a prodigy!”
Prodigy. That’s who I am.
“A prodigy, naturally smart, capable, and talented. Any task the prodigy did, it was done to the best result possible. There was no struggle in anything the prodigy did, none at all. Why? Because the prodigy was naturally smart, capable, and talented of course! Everyone said it! Everyone praised him! As long as there was praise, the prodigy would continue to do well in school, in physical activity, in anything that he did without effort or struggle.”
“Until one day, the praise stopped coming.”
“His brilliant, flawless, accomplishments from his early years as a kid slowly began to fade. They were now the standard, what was…expected from him.”
Upon hearing the word expected, the heavy air around the room condensed and my body suddenly grew heavy, as if there was a weight set on my shoulders.
“Ah, do you feel it now?” the voice called out. “Do you feel the weight of the word I hate the most? They’re such a cruel thing, aren’t they? In hindsight, they seem good, because they come from loved ones who only want the best for you, who only want to see you do well, right? So you do your best to meet those expectations, and what happens when you meet those expectations? There are even more expectations, and with every new expectation there is a much more demanding task, a much heavier weight for you to carry.”
The voice paused, as if to let the words set in, then continued.
“The praise stopped coming to the prodigy, there was nothing left but strict expectations for him, each one heavier than the last. He foolishly dragged each and every one of those expectations to completion in the hope of being praised by his loved ones. But they never came.”
“One day, the prodigy did something he never thought he would do. He underperformed, he messed up, he failed to carry the inexorable amount of weight that he somehow would always manage. What came next was the starting point for the end of the prodigy.”
“Criticism.”
My body, struggling to stand under the invisible weight, was under attack again. The air became heavier and so did the invisible burden on my body upon hearing the word.
“Disapproval”
The invisible weight on my shoulders grew even heavier, my knees strained to keep me up right.
“Disappointment, laughter, confusion, mistrust, anger, hatred, fear, loneliness, incapability, incompetence, hopelessness, weakness, doubt”
“Rejection”
With every word, the burden continued to grow, not only was it growing on my shoulders, but the heaviness was slowly spreading all throughout my body, sapping my strength. Every one of my limbs burned in protest with exhaustion. My knees were beginning to buckle under the unrelenting weight. My body was screeching one collective message: STOP.
“Woah, woah, hey there buddy!” The voice called out. It was uncharacteristically gleeful, yet still managed to retain the burning sting of resentment and cynicism. “Can’t have you collapsing here, we haven’t even reached the end of the story! I haven’t been able to judge you properly for your sin, me, yet! After that you can decide to rest under that crushing weight for all eternity, and after that and I can go back to chilling in this room alone in blissful apathy with the satisfaction of condemning you and taking your body before Pride, Wrath, or Greed ever got a chance to."
A loud yawn came from the room, followed with the sound of several bones cracking.
"Ahhhh, I reeeeeeally hate those guys you see, they’re tooo active, think toooo hard, and having them condemn you and take your body, mind, and soul would be… troublesome for me to say the least.”
Upon saying that there was a great sound of clattering of the keyboard and three clicks.
Click
“Pride would rope the rest of us in whatever he feels like will bolster his ego, narcissism and whatever will make him feel superior. Anything that would rid him of being under his shadow, someone we both know quite well. Personally, I’d rather not want to hear that guy drone on and on about how righteous and justified he is to condemn you, to bind us all up and then ramble how he will finally break free of the so-called chains or shadow that’s been slowly driving him insane and blah, blah, blah. Dude needs to learn how to take a chill pill, shut the fuck up and relax like me, do you see me sperging and spazzing out about these things? No.”
Click
"Wrath, being the self-hating mess of misery that he is would make ALL of us suffer in eternal agony in self-punishment because its what he believes we all deserve. which is just tasteless don’t you think? Gormless really. I mean who actually enjoys hating and hurting themselves? Actually wait, don’t answer that."
Click
"And Greed… ugh, I don’t know what that fucker is thinking in that sick little head of his, but all I know is everyone, us and your loved ones will be disposed for the sake of satisfying his curiosity, which is whatever weird kink or thing he gets obsessed about “solving”. He’s also pretty retarded emotionally and just can’t seem to grasp the concept of emotions, feelings, moral law or basic human decency. He can fake knowing and showing them pretty damn good though, the mask he always wears can give him the ability to. He’s a fake freak end of story.”
There were three clicks, possibly him closing all three windows on his screen.
“Funnily enough they’re as troublesome for me as they’re for you too since they really hate you, and I mean reeeeeaally hate you. They hate you more than the rest of us combined, which makes sense considering what you’re here for, right?”
Thud
My body gave way under the invisible weight and swiftly met the ground. At the same time I hit the ground there was another thud in the room hidden behind the door, followed by the light sound of footsteps.
The owner of the voice, Sloth had gotten up from his chair.
Pat, pat, pat, pat
The air was now sappy beyond measure with apathy, my vision began to swim more and more as each lightly placed footstep brought us closer and closer together. The footsteps stopped at the door. His shadow peaked from underneath.
“You’re here to change yourself. To fix yourself, to put your past flaws, sins, and regrets to rest. To move on and to leave us all behind.”
At his words, the entire apartment shuddered as if it could hear and dislike the idea.
“But why do so? Why would you want to leave us behind? Could you do it? You’ve put yourself on a path full of misery and suffering just so that you can attempt to reach an ideal that you’re not sure you can live up to? Why?”
Every statement that swirled out of his mouth only served to distort. The apartment was now a haze of purple and everything was twisting and turning around me. Sloth didn’t seem to care as he continued to speak.
“Do I have to remind you why you ended up this way? Do I? Its simple. After you couldn’t handle the weight of expectation and reality that held you down, that you weren’t the best at anything anymore or could naturally understand anything and do it perfectly, do you know what you did?”
“You gave up and let the weight crush you. You withdrew from everything around you into this small, little room.”
“And it was the best decision you could’ve made in my most honest and totally not biased opinion. After all, why even bother holding up something that will inevitably crush you? Why not just let it fall on you before it got even heavier? What was the point of trying in the first place? It’s much easier to accept it and not go through the effort and pain only to find out in the end it all meant nothing.”
His now distorted shadow was still peaking from the door.
“I didn’t like pain, struggling, or suffering. You didn’t like it either. We had so much in common! We could have been frie- pfft, nah, I can’t even joke about that. But look at here we are now, you barge into my comfy little happy place to tell me, me, the literal embodiment of your fucking laziness that you want to go through all of that bullshit and I have to kneel over and die?"
He irritably knocked on the door as he spoke, as if he was trying to hammer his points into the atmosphere.
“You’ve been pressed under that weight for how long now? The amount of effort it’ll take just to barely stand is enough to make me want to die. Even if you do manage to do so, nothing is guaranteed you know? Yeah, you’ll beat me, but what about Gluttony? Envy? Wrath? Greed? Lust? Pride? Can you beat them all and leave them behind to achieve this ridiculous goal of “taking back your life”?”
Sloth tapped his finger on the door, it was the only thing left. The apartment was no more. Everything had contorted into a dark purple shadow of haze.
“It seems like we’re running out of time.” Sloth mused.
He let out a long deep sigh.
“I really have to put effort into this don’t I?”
Click
The door lock clicked back into its rightful place and the door slowly began to open. There was no ominous creak as you would expect from something as climatic as this, it just opened like any other regular door. Revealing the sin behind the door.
Two baleful eyes, full of apathy, stuck their sight on me. They were the only defining feature of Sloth, the rest of his face was incomprehensible, covered by shadow. He wore a regular T-shirt and pajamas.
“You either carry that weight right now, or be crushed under it forever. Choose. The weight of responsibility or the light freedom of Slothfulness."
"Choose."