Open.

Eleanor couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed in her entire life. This felt strange though she couldn't recall why. Everything was smooth, easy breezy, cool and as her eyes adjusted to the light around the room they landed on the wall right before her.

Welcome!

Everything is Fine.

She smiled.

Everything was fine, wasn't it?

"Eleanor?"

Her eyes peaked up to the gentleman that had just opened the door.

His smile welcomed her more than the sign on the wall, "Come on in."

Relief flooded through her entire body as if she had been waiting forever for this moment. She stood and followed the gentleman into the room, wondering briefly what she had been waiting for. Did it even matter at this point? The wall explained it all perfectly: Everything is fine. Her questions, for the moment, could wait.

"Hi, Eleanor, I'm Michael."

The man was older, roughly 65/70 years old with white hair and full-framed glasses. He had a smile that filled up his entire face from his chin to his forehead and that right there made Eleanor feel like she could trust him. They took their seats, he behind a desk and she before it, while he spoke to her with a gentle tone she was not used to but was comforted by.

"How are you today?"

"I'm great. Thanks for asking," she thought she might as well ask before she forgot, "Oh, one question. Where am I? Who are you? And what's going on?"

He nodded as if he had the simplest answers, "Right. So. You, Eleanor Shellstrop, are dead. Your life on Earth has ended and you are now in the next phase of your existence in the universe."

It was just a second that had passed but for Eleanor it felt like an eternity. She had never truly considered her own death (not even when her father passed) and when she even briefly considered it she always thought of it as blank emptiness. She never anticipated that there would be something more and she never anticipated that she would have the same awareness and personality as she did on Earth. But she was happy to be wrong.

Eleanor recovered quickly, "Cool, cool. I have some questions."

"Welcome to your new home!"

It had become almost impossible for Eleanor to continue the charade. Every word that left Michael's mouth was another nail in her coffin. She DID NOT belong in the Good Place. She DID NOT belong in this neighborhood. She DID NOT belong here.

"Ahh, its perfect isn't it? You see in the Good Place every person gets to live in a home that perfectly matches his or her true essence."

It took every single ounce of strength for her to keep the upbeat positive tone that Michael released effortlessly, "I guess that's why my house, for example, is an adorable little cottage while other people might have homes that are bigger. Like that one."

"Exactly!" Michael shouted, "Oh, I'm so happy you get it."

As Eleanor followed him inside the clown house, Eleanor hated clowns, her skin was crawling from the inside out. It was as if every corner of the home taunted her, saying: this isn't for you. You don't belong here. The major problem though was that she was Eleanor Shellstrop. She once did a Google search to find out how many people in the world had her name and she came up with three. To be mixed up here in the Good Place with another Eleanor Shellstrop seemed a little too farfetched.

"As you can see the interior has been decorated just as you like it, in the Icelandic Primitive Style. Oh, oh, oh! And uh, of course you love clowns!"

"I do love clowns!"

Eleanor wouldn't say she was a sociopath but the only way she could get through this tour was to completely and entirely base her reactions off of Michael's. Every glint in his eye, every smile on his teeth, every little gesture she tried to measure and record and reflect in the ways that whoever she was supposed to be would do it. And she was nailing it! The only way Michael would know she was boldly lying was if he had sight into her churning gut that constantly wanted to puke.

"Now, let me show the uh…video system here!"

Michael lead her to the center of the road and waved a magical hand to pull up some kind of TV screen from thin air. Eleanor almost ruined her pants with that kind of hocus pocus but the images on TV caught her attention. It was a large white ball in the middle and inside of that read "MEMORIES" in green letters. Attached to it were other balls with other words and she found herself shivering at the thought of everything she had done coming to life before her. If he tapped one thing this short-lived jig would be up.

"You can review everything that happened in your life from your point of you. This is your human rights mission from the Ukraine."

The images of a pale hand offering toys to children in some gross tent brought a smile to her face. Somehow she was safe. Those were not her memories and she was fine.

"You got a ton of points for that, it really put you over the top. But before you get into all that, there is one more thing I must go over with you."

Eleanor nearly screamed at the top of her lungs as she turned to face Michael with that forced/effortless smile she had perfected in the last hour.

"On our walk I did explain that in this neighborhood there are 322 perfectly selected people that will blend together, each one having their own soul mate," his hands gestured toward the door as Eleanor scanned the room for a gun to shoot herself.

She had completely forgotten in the hot mess that everyone was supposed to have a "soul mate." Eleanor had never believed in such a thing on Earth and here in the Good Place that she DID NOT belong in only made her confirm that lack of belief. Whoever came through that door would just be some loser she'd have to con or trick or bribe into helping her stay as long as possible.

"This is your soul mate."

Oh, fork.

"Tahani."

Eleanor knew that for as long as she lived she would never forget the tall woman in the white dress. The white pearls and the black eyes swooning theatrically against the door frame. A door had never looked so good. Eleanor knew for as long as she had consciousness and thought she would always remember that white dress.

The woman stepped forward, "Eleanor, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," she smiled.

Ugh.

Why did she have to be British?