Chapter 1
Well here we are everyone, is in hell now, this is the worst day of my life. 45 minutes into class and the nerdiest guy walks in he’s about 5′0 and stinks. I put my feet up on the chair next to me and I blasted my music from my headphones I hated my first class.
It was speech and debate I hated it, it was so boring but I took the class for an easy A. I had won the previous year’s debate because it was an argument about something stupid like if Pluto was a plant. BEEP BEEP my alarm goes off it was all a dream. Thankfully.
I got up out of my bed and my room was still cold from leaving my window open last night. I sleep in shorts and a bra but it still gets hot in here. I slip my shorts off my legs and kick them toward the closet. “I need to do my laundry,” I said to myself.
I slid on a pair of baggy blue jeans and a harry potter cropped hoodie. I grabbed my speaker, phone, laptop, headphones, and sneakers. Black rose patterned vans. I walked out to the front room and laced up my shoes. While listening to my parents scream at each other. It wasn’t anything new this happens every day from the time I turned 13 to now. 4 years of this and it had never stopped. My dad now sleeps on the couch. It’s sad to see two people who once loved each other act like the other one is just another stranger. I finished putting on my shoes to get my brother up he’s only 6, years old and he has been through this for years now he's use to it.
As i walk into the school of the "adolescent learning environment" its as if I'm walking into hell, I am surrounded by the screams of the damned. I see people being tortured in ways that I can’t even imagine, and the stench of blood and death is overwhelming. I try to cover my nose and mouth with my shirt, but it does little to stop the smell.
I see my friends and family members here, and I can’t help but feel guilty that I’m not suffering like they are. I know that I deserve to be here, but seeing the people I love in so much pain is torture in itself.
I see the nerdiest guy from my class here, and I can’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction. He’s being tortured by demons, and I can’t help but think that he deserves it.
Eventually, I see Satan himself, and he tells me that this is my punishment for all the pain and suffering I caused in my life. I deserved this, and I know it. I can only hope that someday I’ll be able to forgive for what I’ve done. I hope that I can one day be free from hell.
After 8 months, I have learned to suppress the urge to scream at the people I have hurt. I have also learned to let go of the guilt and shame and gain forgiveness.
