Hells Fire

Prologue

      January 4 1984
      Pulling the white, silky sheets over my head, I nervously shuffle under my blankets. I am afraid of what might happen if I peek outside to the dark room around me, the evil that plagues my existence. I'm hoping it won't see me, Am I the one it's after? I don't know, yet it be damned to catch me taking  such a risk. Listening to the sounds around me is soothing to say the least. Keeping the cloth over my rigid body, I try to peek out but my hands jerk back down at the last moment, nerves and unwilling wall to seclusion.  I only wish that I would have done different or to change what has already been done, if I hadn't have done it I wouldn't have to die. Now, however, It seems as if I am doomed to darkness under these blankets.
    My heart pounds out of my chest, my throat burns from my sharp and uneven breaths. The blanket hoists swiftly from my pale planked body, shaking as the wind carries it to the ground. I began to cry, nothing made sense anymore. I would die, turn to hell's block either way so what did it matter. No matter how much I believe I could get out, or how much I can prove myself,  it was always meant to be this way. That "Thing" took them away from me, and now I have nothing left. Nothing at all. The shadow that stands before me draped in black, makes me feel I am ineffectual and dazed. My soul holds bitterness and blame. The only person I choose to blame is my own soul.
    Time goes by hesitantly, I try to stay silent, I just can't. I begin to tear up and pout. My life's at stake and I can't do anything to save myself from the pain.
For a moment my vision is begins to fade, everything  becomes vague.
    I wake up. One foot away from my face, a large black figure with red porcelain eyes so deep that if they were pools of blood there would be no way out of them, you'd just immerse to the bottom. The temperature rose but I stay frozen, stopped, paralyzed. My skin crawls with a strained lifelessness. This scenario reminds me of all the times I ran away from everyone, including myself. I am afraid, and I always have been.
    I feel as if I am already dead, staring at nothing but a darkened blazing void. This is what awaited me. Beyond life is a figure that is filled with hate and dread, there is no heaven. Just this, the epitome of myself yet in a mirror image. I  try to scream, but no sound come out from my mouth. I start sweating, but no water drips from my face. I  am crying where there is no tears. I am trapped, and no one is by my side to hear my end. No one can help but myself. I'm not strong enough to handle this on my own, I am so weak I can't bare to stay alive any longer. My bones hurt and I know none of this is worthwhile. Is life really precious?
    If there were a reason to die, this would be it. My flesh feels raw and cold I can't imagine how long I will live here. I know this place by one name, "Hell". My heart fell down and broke into six pieces, shattered, left to fade. Are we living a lie? Sometimes I believe this is all a dream of another or sometimes we are just all made up, just a puppet of someone else's reality. Such a poor reality.