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Description
People think Hell is a dark abyss enveloped in an eternal conflagration and haunted by the echoes of tortured screams. People think Satan takes you there when you've been bad. They think you only go there when you die. They are wrong.
I remember the day I went to Hell. My family took me there. It's a white room, lit all day, with no sound except for the buzzing of the lights. Sure, there are tortured screams, but only if you want there to be. Hell's attendant is not the devil. It's the medicine man.
People think Hell is forever. That once you go there, you don't come back--and they're right, in a way. Your mind never leaves Hell. Never. But your body certainly can. Mine did.
You can leave Hell, but they want you back. They always want you back. They make excuses, say it's not time for you to leave. Sir, it's wrong. They send their helpers to track you down. They hold your arms and they put you in a car, and they take you back. They always do. And it's always harder to leave after that. Hell is not inescapable, but every time you go back, it gets harder. Harder. Harder. Every time you leave, it gets harder.
Your car isn't here to take me back, is it? No, those lights. The red, the blue. They aren't to take me back, are they? No. I didn't think so. My little friend doesn't think so either. You wouldn't want him to spit at you, would you? No. That would be silly. He's loud when he spits. Loud.
He spit at a man once. I never saw that man again.
Ah. Don't move. He will spit, and I am serious about that. Stay there.
Hell is a terrible place. Not only for you, but also the people you love. Every time you see them they cry. They mourn as if you're dead. But I'm not dead. Not dead. They must be masochists to take me there.
Hey! I said not to move!
Bang!
See my little friend spit at the ground just at your feet. See it!
Ah, I see you have a friend as well. That's fine. I'm bleeding. And back to Hell I go. Cold, quiet Hell.

Description
People think Hell is a dark abyss enveloped in an eternal conflagration and haunted by the echoes of tortured screams. People think Satan takes you there when you've been bad. They think you only go there when you die. They are wrong.
I remember the day I went to Hell. My family took me there. It's a white room, lit all day, with no sound except for the buzzing of the lights. Sure, there are tortured screams, but only if you want there to be. Hell's attendant is not the devil. It's the medicine man.
People think Hell is forever. That once you go there, you don't come back--and they're right, in a way. Your mind never leaves Hell. Never. But your body certainly can. Mine did.
You can leave Hell, but they want you back. They always want you back. They make excuses, say it's not time for you to leave. Sir, it's wrong. They send their helpers to track you down. They hold your arms and they put you in a car, and they take you back. They always do. And it's always harder to leave after that. Hell is not inescapable, but every time you go back, it gets harder. Harder. Harder. Every time you leave, it gets harder.
Your car isn't here to take me back, is it? No, those lights. The red, the blue. They aren't to take me back, are they? No. I didn't think so. My little friend doesn't think so either. You wouldn't want him to spit at you, would you? No. That would be silly. He's loud when he spits. Loud.
He spit at a man once. I never saw that man again.
Ah. Don't move. He will spit, and I am serious about that. Stay there.
Hell is a terrible place. Not only for you, but also the people you love. Every time you see them they cry. They mourn as if you're dead. But I'm not dead. Not dead. They must be masochists to take me there.
Hey! I said not to move!
Bang!
See my little friend spit at the ground just at your feet. See it!
Ah, I see you have a friend as well. That's fine. I'm bleeding. And back to Hell I go. Cold, quiet Hell.