There are two hundred and five people in front of me.
Two hundred and five people stand between me and the divine light of paradise.
As I stand in line, waiting for my meal rations, I can't help but pull out my crumpled ticket number and cradle it in my hand, the red numbers barely legible.
Given to me the day I turned eighteen, this scrap of dirtied paper has been my life.
"Will number one thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine, please report to--the door."
Make it two hundred and four people in front of me.
I took my plate of dehydrated slop and sat next to Peter, who was talking excitedly. The entire table was silent, everyone craning their necks like sunflowers, desperate for the tiniest ray of sun.
"I saw it," he whispered, his voice low as he glanced around, afraid someone would hear, "I saw the light."
The table of our small group of friends broke out in hushed whispers.
"The light. The light," they all murmured.
"What was it like?"
"That's not possible, they say the light burns up anyone who sees it."
"Then how do people walk into it, dumbass?"
I forced myself to swallow the grey mass on my spoon, "was it--beautiful?"
The table fell silent, and Peter's eyes seemed to shine brighter, almost as if the memory had captured the light within itself.
"I swear when I saw it, I knew I'd never die, I'd never fade, I'd be--eternal," he paused, a tiny tear sliding down his cheek, "I'd be infinite."
The entire room had gone silent, almost as if everyone had been unconsciously listening in; the light was always calling--the door was always calling.
And then I heard a scoff.
"You felt--infinite? What the hell does that even mean?"
Everyone turned to see Judas sitting off to the side, her arms crossed. Her hair was ruffled and messy as if she hadn't had time to brush it. I frowned slightly, and her shirt definitely wasn't protocol; it was not only wrinkled, but it was blue.
"What do you know anyway?" Someone yelled out. "Aren't you number two thousand, six hundred and seventy-six?"
Judas rolled her eyes, "and? Why the fuck does that matter?"
"You're just jealous," someone else called out.
Judas slumped back down in her chair, and everyone turned back to Peter. But I could still see it--the raging fire that hid behind the deep holes of her eyes.
"You're so lucky," Mary muttered, causing me to return to the group. "You only have two people left in front of you--I have three hundred and twelve."
Peter smiled, "It'll be alright, Mary. Have faith and your time will come sooner than you think. I'll be waiting for you," he opened his arms, "for all of you."
I clicked my tongue. Sometimes Peter's speeches got out of hand; he seemed to forget that he wasn't the Supreme Ruler.
"Will number two thousand please report to--the door."
I felt my insides boil slightly. Peter was beaming--only one person stood between him and his future.
"Are you alright, Cain?" He asked, the usual serene smile still gracing his face.
