hell is real

Hell is real and it doesn't care about the things you've done. I'd describe it as some sort of meta physical carnivorous plant. It's a black mass in the sky that you can feel better than you can see. It feels like aching. Splintered shin bone and Grinding cogs made of cartilage and flesh. It's unrelenting sadness and despair and it almost never lets you go until there's nothing left of you. I got lucky i think.

a few years ago I let my boyfriend drive me home after he had had a few drinks. Just a bad decision made by mostly good people. 9 times out of 10 when this sort of thing happens, everything turns out fine. This time it didn't. I don't really remember much of the crash, but i do remember spinning in the air, and hitting my head hard on the side window.

I woke up outside of my body. Moving without a body is a lot like swimming only the water feels thinner. I was drifting away when the black mass grabbed me by the scalp and made everything feel real again. It dragged me away from the car by my hair with my feet barely touching the ground. I could feel it feeding on me and i began a scream that would've lasted forever if I hadn't done what I did.

There where others there too. Each of them attached by the scalp to a tendril that hung from the drifting black mass in the sky. The ones that had been their a long time where reeled higher up. They screamed just as loud and desperately as i did. I don't think you ever get used to it. I don't think it lets you.

It dragged us aimlessly for what felt like forever. I don't think it thinks. It has no intention in it's direction, like it's pushed and pulled around in some unseen current. I saw other black masses, too. Almost all of them where smaller than ours. I think They're born in places of extreme human sadness and misery. That's what they eat. That's why it has to hurt so much.

After a period that i later learned to be 2 years after my death, i was dragged into a familiar town, and to a familiar door. For the first time since the tendril fish hooked into my scalp, i felt it slacken. I knew what it wanted me to do.

I saw him for the first time in two years, and he saw me back. He ran and locked himself in the bathroom and i sat on the other side of the door. After the crying had stopped we talked through the door. He told me how he had missed me and how he was sorry. So sorry. How he had started drinking and doing drugs since he killed me and how he had planned to kill himself but couldn't go through with it. I told him i missed him too. I wasn't lying. What i did to him wasn't revenge. You'd have done it too. To your boyfriend or your brother or your parents. Maybe even your own children. He was too frightened to let me in, so i asked him to go to the medicine cabinet and take all the pills he could find. I told him how perfect the other side was and how we would be together again forever. I told him he would be happier here and he wouldn't have to feel guilty any more. He told me he loved me and fell silent for a long time.

His mother found me in the morning in a pool of his vomit- My vomit. I was rushed to hospital to have my stomach pumped.

His parents were so happy with the way i turned his life around after the suicide attempt. Like a new person, they said.

I can't see the black masses anymore, but i can still feel them when they drift overhead. You feel them too, you just don't have a name for them. They're the source of all ghost stories. Every time a place just feels wrong or you see a shadow in the corner of your eye, its one of them passing through, waiting for someone to die.