The Thirteenth Face

What's the use in space if there's nothing in it? I could walk and walk and never reach the edge of my cell, never even know where the edge is. I have everywhere and nowhere to go.

They put me here at the end of my trial, without a verdict. I was blindfolded, suddenly and unexplainably, left drifting on what felt like a wave of snow, then - Here. In this endless White, where I can't feel my feet against the floor as I walk. The same as before, as if I never moved at all.

I sit on the floor and cross my legs, the absence of seating making me feel like a child at nursery. Any moment, the teacher will appear and I'll be told to put my hand up if I know the answer to any questions. If only my nursery was a place for questions to be answered.

Looking up, I can't see anything. Clear Whiteness, like the floor underneath me and the air around me. Everything is White, not bright, not dark, not anything. Just White.

There's something - No, there can't be - There's something in front of me. Standing right in front of me, blending in, barely visible.

I hear a voice. I don't hear it through my ears, or my brain, I just hear it.

"Come. The jury has not yet decided your verdict. You will be used to help while they consider," it says, it's voice far above my head, and suddenly I'm not in the White anymore. I'm in a gigantic hall, millions of small two-walled 'rooms' to my left and right, stretching as far back, forward and up as I can see. The missing walls of the rooms are facing to and away from me, and I see one person in each 'room'. They don't see me, even the ones staring in my direction.

"They are each in their own 'Whites', as you call it," my giant guide says, reading my mind. It leads me along the seemingly endless corridor.

Most are sitting, but some are standing, even - walking. Stationary walking, but their legs are moving back and forward, just not going anywhere.

I wonder how long they have been here, each of them, and why they came.

My guardian leads me onwards, forever onwards towards an end that I can't see. I gaze to each of my sides, looking up, still wondering who the prisoners are. What crimes have they come here to pay for? What familys have they left behind to mourn their passing, never knowing, never guessing what their loved ones are facing beyond the grave?

There's something ahead. At this distance I can only guess what it might be - Perhaps another court, perhaps the same one I was tried in.

As we draw closer, I see it for what it is. A room, empty but with clear walls and roof. I move to one of the walls and put out my hand, giving a sigh of relief as my hand comes into contact with it. Solid.

There are two more giants of White waiting for me inside the room. They glide towards me and take my arms. I can't feel afraid of them, somehow.

They sit me down in the middle of the room, on the floor, and start to speak together.

"You will not move from this spot." I try to move my head upwards to look at them, but already I'm paralyzed. "We will leave, but do not be afraid. We will return soon." They are already gone, and I didn't see them leave.

The White of the room is growing bright. Brighter, or was it always like that? The light is growing, expanding, and I feel it digging into me. My mouth opens with its own will and the light rushes through it. It tugs at me, pulling me, pulling something out of me -

Something tall, and entirely white stands in front of me, dragging me to my feet. I look around. Where am I?

The room is pure white, with no definition between floor and walls, walls and ceilings. The creature in front of me - Not human, surely - almost blends in with the room.

Suddenly it speaks. "You will come with me." I don't hear or even think its voice. It simply speaks.

"Who are you?" I ask. "Who - who am I?" Who am I? It should be a simple question. I should know.

I look down at myself. They've covered me - or maybe I've covered myself - In clothes of white, white gloves and white shoes included. I can't see any of myself, I can't even be sure that I'm human. How do I know that humans are common? Maybe these giant white creatures are normal.

"You are human, and you are - 'normal'. That is all you may know." It read my mind. These creatures can read minds. "Follow."

My eyes shut by themselves and for a moment I feel like I'm drifting on a cloud of snow. When they open, I'm in more endless White.

The giant thing is speaking again. "You will be shown the trial of Alexandra Tamara Whitehall with the charge of unnecessary suicide. This trial took place before you appeared, and the jury has been hesitant to decide the verdict. It is up to you."

"Unnecessary suicide?"

"Using your limited vocabulary - You must decide whether the woman was appropriately driven to suicide, or if hope was left in her world for a bearable life." A tall order indeed. How am I supposed to judge, given that I don't know the woman, and don't even know myself?

"If you do not judge, we will not restore your memories," the thing says. I stare at it, open-mouthed. It has my memories. And it's keeping them.

"I'll - I'll judge," I stammer.

The accused - Alexandra - appears in front of me, together with twelve others - the jury. Am I another member of the jury, the unlucky thirteenth?

The trial plays itself in front of me. I hear the woman, her voice slightly blurred, declaring herself 'not guilty', seeming barely aware of where she is. I hear a distorted, deep voice that I somehow recognize as my own, questioning her.

It comes out that her husband was an alcoholic, and her only son dead, and I feel sorry for her. But then all is revealed and I hear that she drove her husband to drink and didn't love her child, neglecting him and feeling only hurt when he died.

After the trial, I am asked for my verdict. I consider for a while.

There may or may not have been a bearable life ahead for this woman, but she could've prevented it. She could've been good to her husband, she could've tried to love her son.

"Guilty."

My memories flood back and I fall to my knees. Now I know why the woman on trial seemed familiar; I see her in the mirror every day.