Hell is not made of fire.

A lot of people believe that hell is a world covered in flames, with heat that sears through your very being, scorches your soul, and inflicts terrible agony. They say Hell is a place for fiery torment, where fire is a vicious serpent that winds through your existence and seeks to quench every feeling except anguish, but at the same time refusing to let you be conquered by nothingness, keeping you wide-awake so you can feel every blistering sensation.

They're wrong.

Hell doesn't look the same for everyone else. Hell is a multi-faced mirror with countless reflections caging you inside the hollow of a diamond so you can see the glaring facets you refuse to look at. Hell is not always a place; sometimes it's a feeling, sometimes it's an event--sometimes it's a person.

Hell shows itself not only in death. Hell is everywhere--it's just somewhere around the corner of the street, hiding its face behind a newspaper, waiting for you to make the wrong choices. It's just somewhere behind you, an invisible fiend watching your every step, waiting for you to stumble. And once you do, it will laugh at you. You won't hear its sinister laughter, nor would you notice the subtle shift of the ground beneath your feet.

The odds are no longer in your favor.

Hell is cold. Hell is calculating. Hell is terrorizing.

Hell is reaching inside yourself, searching your heart, trying to find out how you really feel--but ending up finding nothing. Hell is opening your mouth to scream but nothing comes out because there is nothing left inside. Hell is the immovable boulder weighing down on your chest, it is the desperate need for the ability to cry, it is the panic and anguish that comes when you realize you can't.

Hell is watching him with his perfect hair and perfect eyes and perfect smile, knowing he isn't even aware of your plain existence. Hell is realizing for the first time that unrequited love is not as romantic as people say. Hell is waiting, waiting, waiting for something you know won't come. Hell is finally getting the nerve to say 'I love you' but only receiving silence in return. Hell is laughing it all away and saying it's nothing, I understand why, all the while wishing you could run to someplace where you can cry and scream without being heard. Hell is falling in love.

Hell is the red mark on your record, the frowns on your parents' faces, the pitying looks on your friends' expressions. Hell is the star you failed to reach, the shaking heads, the consoling pats on your back. Hell is the mocking laughter ringing in your ears even after they've long ended. Hell is the condescending voices echoing from somewhere in the back of your mind, reminding you who you were, who you've been, and who you are now. Hell is laughing at you. Hell is disappointment. Hell is trying and trying over and over and never succeeding. Hell is failure.

Hell is building your life with damning patience, with meticulous thoroughness, with painstaking care, and having it all knocked down to the ground. Hell is desperation, hopelessness. Hell is the blooming rose standing amidst a bed of withered blossoms. It's the touching beauty of life at its most exquisite, the surging anticipation, the reckless triumph, and the next day when you look for the rose you only find a withered stalk. Hell is hope.

Hell is the silent night torn apart by raging screams and flying furniture. Hell is the deafening wail of a child accompanying every insult, every furious, careless word that escapes your mouth. Hell is the empty threat he took as a promise. Hell is holding his hand and realizing it's no longer as comfortable as it used to be. Hell is the sadness weighing on your apartment, so palpable you could wrap your fingers around it and try to snap it--but you can't, because hell is already there. Hell is the silence, the eternal quiet screaming in your ears, as you pack your suitcase, as you stuff in old photographs trapped behind the cracked glass of their picture frames. It's the painful need to sit still and concentrate on breathing because you suddenly forgot how to. It's looking around you, seeing the stripped bed, the empty closet, the unsettling dust floating along the light filtering through the misted windows. Hell is falling out of love.

I could go on about hell forever, and I would never be able to enumerate all of them because there can only be so many words that can describe hell, and there are too many people in this world who see different kinds of hell. I cannot accurately define hell, I don't know much about it. I cannot claim to have seen hell, because I've never been to a place like it before.

But I know that hell is cold.

Because hell is not always made of fire.

I KNOW ITS WRONG.
But there is an urge in me,
To destroy something...its so strong.
I've never felt this way before, its scary.
I see black surrounding my vision.
It feels as though inside me just occurred an explosion.
So i throw a punch at the wall and the door.
Hard and painful enough to last for a week or more.
I want to run, screaming into the night.
I want to be rude, hurt someone and put up a fight.
I want to get the anger out on someone and feel free.
But i simply cant,
Because the one who triggered my anger,is no one but me.

Sign in the staffroom at work.
Stay positive they said,
Stay positive I read,
Stay positive in the work you despise,
Turn a blind eye as your life goes by,
Leave your thoughts at the door,
Don’t think they implore,
Pretend there is no sun,
Look out of the window at your life on hiatus for eight hours,
Can’t get rid of the smell of this jail even after a thousand showers,
Take solace it’s for the money that I didn’t even want to use,
The books you could be reading now will only get you confused,
The songs you could be listening to now won’t speak to you anyway,
Silence your mental jukebox and toil for your pay.
Stay positive today,
The cash they flash,
I can see on my face a fiscal rash,

They can say put down your pens,
Strip your pencils of lead,
Tell creativity to slumber,
Put your canvas to bed,
But can’t stop us drawing in our heads,
Stay positive,
Like don’t start on that waitress and treat her with chagrin,
Cos she doesn’t bound over with your pie and chips with a leap and a grin,
“We’ve paid for this food, she better start smiling,”
Or the tip it is non and the polite police I’m dialing “
Have a word with yourself shes working,
And more than that she could be hurting,
Cos John in the kitchen isn’t flirting,
Or she could be wearing that frown,
Cos shes realised she only got £30.00 for her night out in town,
That’s not much when you consider the taxi back,
Plus after shes done serving you shes got dishes to attack,
But no she has a grimace,
Shes finished,
We have all felt like that, bit lonely and that,
Stay positive.
Stay positive,
Cos sometimes words cling to the air,
Like candyfloss to hair,
And birds sing for their bread while the cat bosses just stare,
At the endless charade of hierarchy,
John then Paul then George then Starky,
But star key unlocks the door to the skies,
Hope is life, I summarise,
There’s beauty in your summer eyes,
Don’t count the calories in pies,
Dietary information often lies,
Distracting from the truth with garish rides,
That only seek to compromise,
Our promise and delightful ties,
Forged from friendship not to buy,
Feel your waist and touch your thigh,
Dietary information often lies,
Love is all,
No chance to take,
No dast to cie,
Be brilliant and hear them sigh,
Stay positive.
I feel like,
Tintin going exploring,
Paths opening up, new days dawning,
I’m done with yawning it’s a waste of breath,
I don’t feel lethargic, I don’t feel bereft,
Heads down dive me a test,
About anything cos this beat in my chest,
Means I’ll beat Kasparov at chess,
Armani couldn’t make a sexier dress,
Allivate stress quicker than Prozac,
Cut the beanstalk down faster than Jack,
I can stretch my mind more than that guy on the rack,
Cos I think if our lips locked together we could throw away the lucky heather,
No more boring days of monotony,
Fingers crossed watching the national lottery,
Not just waiting around thinking I’ll chill,
But striving for the horizon over the hill,
Stay positive.
But the best thing I saw recently,
Was when I’d just finished my tea,
And I saw these two old folk who live near me,
One about 89 the other 93,
Twilight of their lives to say the least,
Real hunched and stooped over, all false teeth,
But the way they held each other’s hands the tenderness was palpable,
Cradled and soft the care undoubtable,
Cos some things are not withered by age,
They stick through this life to every page,
Decrepit vocal cords that would have a job to sing,
But there demeanor hit the high notes bellowing loves the greatest thing,
And whatever they think the next life is, earth, air or above,
At least the opening gambit can be, “we ended that one with love”
And everybody wants that, everybody,
Everybody with this life to live,
Peace be with you and bless you
And stay positive!

The drunk chanting of "chug" has faded away. The liter of jäger is at war with my liver as I take another long drag of a Seneca Red.
Embers in the grill still smolder away, the taste of pork chops linger on my tongue. My stomach feels empty, although we've only just eaten. The hot dogs are gone. So are the hamburgers and chops. I can't just throw some food in the grill anymore. I must journey to the main campus and sate my hunger for heated meat, perhaps some wings.

I check my phone and see the time is eleven. Now is as good a time as any. I flick the **** into the cool spring night and cross the parking lot towards my Toyota. I grab the wallet from the glove compartment and place my headphones around my ears. Roger asks me if I've heard the news. I tell him I haven't. He says the Dogs are dead. I say that must be good news for the Sheep. My walk, or should I say incoherent stumble, from the town houses is accompanied by the sounds of Animals, a truly relaxing atmosphere.

As I progress down the road from town houses to the main campus, flanked on either by side by wooded areas, memories start coming to me through the darkness. I've walked this path almost daily for close to three years now. Sophomore year I'd walk to Francis from Doyle to get dinner, or hang out with friends who lived there. Junior year, it was from the Phase Twos to my classes and back. This year, it's from the coveted Phase Ones, which I don't truly understand. Phase Two and Three are so much better. Why does everyone want to live in Phase One?

These semi-joyful, or at least not totally depressing, memories flood my consciousness, and bring me back to easier, simpler times. I lack liquor, so I drink these memories down, savoring the sweet scents and full flavors my mind is so adept at bringing back to life. I smash the bottles which held them as I finish them, watching the drunken starlight shimmer and dance over the bits of shattered glass.

As I pass by Doyle and enter the main campus, the memories begin to change and shift. Instead of days which were laden with friendly laughter, I now begin to remember my freshman year, living in Shay Hall and having a whole new campus to discover. When I was forced from my shell and began to meet new people. One of those people would become my first real relationship, and would last all of nine months in my life. Her name was Gabby, and despite her undeniable insanity, was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

We did everything together, from eating and sleeping to going to our pals parties. She loved me, I loved her, and life was wonderful. Until it all, just, wasn't anymore. She grew demanding and distant, while at the same time requiring more and more attention from me, until one day the dam failed under pressure and let the reservoir flood the lands we'd been cultivating for nine months.

She cheated on me. While this was no new fact for me to deal with, looking back on my history with women, it was nonetheless still quite hard to face. She had the good grace to break it off face to face, but there was still a great deal I couldn't forgive her for. The constant demand she placed on every thing I did, no matter how minor or minuscule. The night she struck me for not putting my cell phone on vibrate. The words she would say, layered with condescension whenever I should fall short.

So I cursed her. Not in the typical sense one associates with curses, but more of a silent prayer that she would one day feel the pain that she subjected me to. I didn't have to wait long, though. The following year, she made her way to New Orleans to celebrate for Mardi Gras. Her new beau, the one she had left me for, stayed behind in New York, and put her rightly on the receiving end of the pain she brought me. While she enjoyed the festivities of Fat Tuesday, he enjoyed the carnal company of three seperate women. When she returned, she was heartbroken.

I never received a phone call. No apologies for what she did. No offer of kind words to soothe a soul which still had yet to recover from the blows it had been dealt. No lesson had been learned. No insight into her own actions taken away. No moment of clarity in which she realized the mistake she had made, or the pain she had caused with her selfish actions. The curse remains, hanging over her head like an everlasting storm cloud, dissipating only when she realizes what she has done to one man who enjoys nothing more than holding a well founded grudge.

I’m scared.
Cold, alone......... scared.
My body aches from fighting.
I won, but at what cost?
Revenge shouldn’t be the answer.
They took her life, my true love.
I’m crying, crying like I’ve never cried before.
A life for a life, but at what cost?
I became the person, I set out to destroy.
I’m a monster, a creation the devil himself devised.
I’m scared.
I’m alone, cold, and nothing to cling on to.
I have nothing........ nothing.
There’s only one thing for me to do.
I’m picking up my choice of death.
Goodbye monster.
You’ve done the most evil thing imaginable.
It’s time for you to go.
I’m taking you with me, back to where you came from.
Forgive me Father, for what I’m about to do.
I’ll see you in a few seconds.
Five....... My heart is beating fast.
Four........ Sweat is covering my face.
Three........ My heart is beating faster.
Two........ Hello love, good to see you again.



One........ Goodbye.

“BANG!!!!!”