Alinel looked up from her immaculate desk silver eyes shining then darting away from me. Most people who walked through these doors got a joyous walkthrough of how everything worked. Instead, Alinel sighed toward her desk. "Welcome back."

I nodded to her and took my place in the waiting room. It was custom to let the agents explain the process before you partook but, there wasn't really a point for me. Alinel could ignore me and be sure that I would be back next week just the same.

There wasn't a protocol for what was going on. The process had been written in stone since the first souls were brought through processing. You go in, you partake in cleansing, you wake up on Earth with a new life ahead of you.

It was simple really, souls were too heavy with a lifetime of memories shackling them to a previous existence. The censing process shucked off old heartbreaks, triumphs and every foggy day in between; it left you a clean slate for a new life. It let you go down and try again.

Most souls eventually took part in the immortal cycle. The temptation of something new built up over time and souls were seldom content with their previous lives. There were some, sure, but most were willing to take another chance at bat, in a new time, with a new face.

Far as I knew, I was the only person who wouldn't have that opportunity. I could remember everything, every breath, every step, every bruise, I could even remember how much the cleansing burned when it tried to tear the memories out of me.

It burned less than the realization that it hadn't worked.

After a moment I stood up and nodded to Alinel, she offered me a soft smile laced with pity and waved me forward.

The Cleansing Room was a void in the most literal sense, an endless white expanse that was somehow claustrophobic and vast concurrently. Steps from the door, there was a soft silver pool, where my refection stared back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten deeper since I'd died all of those years ago. They would never get better.

I knelt down onto the white, feeling the cold-warmth of emptiness press against against me. It was pressure that came from nothing, created from the concept that there should be a floor here as opposed to anything physical.

There was a small bowl, cracked black marble that had been repaired with gold, sitting between me and the pool. Alinel told me once that the bowl was different for everyone who came into the Cleansing room. That made sense. Mine would be broken.

I grabbed the bowl off the floor and with one hand dipped it into the silver pool, sending ripples across my reflection. As my visage shifted it flashed over different parts of my life. The bruises, from childhood to college, had been a consistent theme, until they stopped altogether.

My fingers brushed against the pool. It felt like nothing and everything all at once. Every sensation that had touched my fingers cascading over my nerves, coalescing into static.

I pulled the full bowl out of the pool, the silver liquid poured off the sides, fading away against the white void on the ground. I saw my laughter in the droplets.

I squeezed my eyes shut before I brought the bowl to my lips. It wasn't going to work. I had to be okay with the fact that it wouldn't work. I'd walk back out into eternity, past Alinel. I wasn't allowed to forget.

And I didn't know why.

The silver liquid scarred my throat as I poured with down, tiny spikes reaching out for my memories but never finding purchase. There was supposed to be a cleansing fire, something washing away the past but the scars were too deep and funneled the liquid down a useless path.

It hurt. The process of forgetting hurt. The process of remembering hurt. I didn't deserve this. It hadn't been my fault. I'd done what anyone would do.

---

Alinel looked up from her immaculate desk silver eyes shining then darting away from me. Most people who walked through these doors got a joyous walkthrough of how everything worked. Instead, Alinel sighed toward her desk. "Welcome back."