No Exit

This was a comfortable chair. Piers Getty's bum sank into the red velvet cushion. Piers was in ecstasy. All day he sat in stiff wooden chairs. Before this incredible chair, his bum was numb with pain. He sat for six and a half hours. He sat in a white room. Cold. Three other men. There was a table. On this table were tarot cards. 11 per man. Each man was given a booklet. The booklet contained the meanings of each card. They were only allowed to look in this booklet once, then spend the remainder of time staring at the cards. Absorbing the cards.

Piers forgot his cards. But now that he was home, he sensed a change. Was someone in his house? He pulled open the top left drawer at his desk and took out his revolver.

He killed himself.

* * *

Piers Getty walked into a cold white room with three other men. All the men were clairvoyants. They knew why they were here. Each men was to receive a final message via divination. They all dreaded this day for a week. The door was locked. Each man was given a number. The number corresponded with the chair they would be seated. Piers saw his number was 3. He sat. There were 11 tarot cards:

The Hanged Man
3 of Swords
9 of Wands
The Magician
7 of Chalices
King of Pentacles
Justice
Judgment
The Tower
The Chariot

and, what disturbed him the most, the final card:

Death

What did it mean?

Six hours later

The door opened.

The men left together. They were all drawn to a white sedan. They entered the car. Piers was the driver. It wasn't his car, but he had the key.

The engine started. A GPS guided Piers to a log cabin in the woods. The men entered the cabin.

Piers sat down. He was finally home. He forgot what happened to him before sitting. Was someone in his home? He wanted to hold his gun. He pulled open the top left drawer and gripped the revolver. Once his index finger touched the trigger, he lost all thought. Involuntarily, his left arm bent so the revolver aimed at his temple. He pulled the trigger immediately out of fear.

The three remaining men saw the dead Piers and started to pull his skin off with their teeth, then tear at his muscles as blood was spreading across the floor.

* * *

Piers Getty woke up at 11:11 AM. He woke up in a white room with three men. He was on top of a table. He was numb. He knew he was here once before. The three men carried him to the passenger's seat of a white sedan. He was driven to a log cabin in the woods. The three men carried him to a seat. They each pulled out a revolver from the top left shelf of the desk he was seated in front of. They involuntarily aimed at their own heads and killed themselves. Piers knew he did this to himself before. He was still, unable to move. He was doomed to sit here until he was deprived of hydration. He wanted to reach for one of the revolvers and end it all.

At this moment, he realized why he initially shot himself. He experienced deja from this moment. The Death card was the last thing he remembered seeing in the white room.

Now he was in the white room instead of the log cabin. Staring at the Death card.

Remember remember goddammit remember remember you f****n prick remember Death Death Death come on come on remember remember s**t they're getting up come on come on Death Death Death

Piers left the white room. He remembered the white sedan.

Death Death Death come on Death Death

He sat in the driver's seat and started the car.

Ignore the GPS remember Death Death Death

He drove out to the main road.

Turn left

Death Death

He veered into the oncoming lane and undid his seat belt. His speed was at 75 mph.

Crash

Death Death Death come on

He remembered the Chariot card. The white sedan was the chariot.

"I can't die unless I destroy the cards."

* * *

He woke up in the white room. He saw the three men, then looked down at the cards.

"S**t, what was I supposed to do?"

Death, Chariot, uhhhhhh, f**k

"What do I do? Come on. Think."

The three men were rising.

Death, white sedan,

The door opened. The men were staring at him.

"I don't have to get up."

The men pulled out revolvers.

"They'll just shoot themselves."

They aim at him.

Death, white sedan,

Bang.

* * *

Piers Getty wakes up in a log cabin with a revolver pointed at his left temple. He remembered killing himself before. He turned around and saw three men pointing revolvers at him. After all the repetition, Piers started to realize his free will. He quickly shot each of the men.

"Get out, now!"

He ran out of the cabin into the white sedan.

"What do I do? How do I get out of this?"

He knew that killing himself would not solve this.

"Why did I go to the white room today?"

Then he realized:

"How long have I been doing this?"

He knew at this moment that he would never remember to destroy the cards. They represented his existence. He would drive as long as possible. There was no destination. He had to embrace life for once. This trip would give him meaning and a purpose. He could finally make a change before starting over. No longer would life be grim.

* * *

Piers Getty was born on July 31st, 2011.