Personal Narrative: Hell

“I still couldn’t comprehend that this might be a matter of life and death, that this was the most serious thing I’d ever been involved in.”

“Because he is at his own job and I don’t need his help with my job.”

Confused, Mustard responds by telling him “Come back in the morning so they can discuss further”

Outside with the leader in their eyes the Nazi soldiers ordered them to hurry. Then they quickly pushed them into the back of a truck and hauled them away. The three were driven to the train station and packed into a steamy cattle train and with lots of other people. After a while, there was the muffled sounds of locking latches and they were left in almost complete darkness. Air could only pass through the small cracks between the train cars sideboards. Everyone in the train car stood crammed closely together in the foul sweltering heat for two days before the whistle blew and the train started to chug slowly along the tracks.

The demon was just your typical run of the mill demon, but he was fast..unusually fast, and that’s what had taken you by surprise. You stealthily crept through the window of the abandoned farmhouse, careful not to make any noise whatsoever. You entered through a room that looked as if it had once belonged to a little girl. You paused for a moment taking in the scene around you, there was a small pink table with plastic china sitting atop it. At first glance you didn’t think much of it, until something told you to look again. Upon your second look, you noticed the tiny bloody handprints that wrapped around the plastic. You took a sharp inhale of breath and decided it was time to move on. You quickly and quietly walked over to the door frame and peeked around the corner, hoping no demons would jump out in front of you. Satisfied with hearing and seeing nothing you took a step out into the hall and continued until you found stairs leading upwards. You hesitated for a moment, considering whether or not you were actually going to go up the steps or not when you heard a

How do I feel about the apocalypse? Good question, let me begin with a little backstory. When I got deployed for my first, and only, time, I saw some things that would scar people. I normally kept to myself when I was there, I only had a few friends. The problem with that is the few friends I had I was really close to. So one day we were charging towards the enemy, everyone firing everywhere in hopes to hit one person. One of my friends was standing diagonally to my left, when a grenade went off. I, thankfully, didn't get the full force of it, my friend did. Bits of her went flying, mostly on me. I just remembered not being able to move, the only reason I was still running is from the groups behind me as they kept pushing forward. We did end

Satan is indeed “Hurled headlong flaming from th’ethereal sky” (Book I, line 45) and into Hell where he will live in fire. But as a leader, and a true protagonist, Satan chooses to accept his situation and rise as a hero for the pack of fallen angels he has led from Heaven. Even if God is his enemy, at least he is not serving anyone. He possesses his own heaven now, though not joyful and happy as the heaven he was just expelled from, “Farewell happy fields/Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail/Infernal world, …/ Receive thy new possessor” (Book I, lines 249-253). Satan makes Hell his Heaven with his mind, as he says, “The mind is its own place, and in itself/Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n” (Book I, lines 254-255). Satan acknowledges that he has made a Hell of his previous Heaven, but he also uses that reasoning to make Hell into his own Heaven. His anti-heroic qualities are apparent, though, when he tells his followers in Book I, “To do aught good never will be our task/ But ever to do ill our soul delight” (lines 159-160). It cannot be forgotten that Satan is evil by his creation and through his free will. God created Satan with all of his imperfections but makes it clear that he had a choice by

“You’re the one who leaves it on the table where anyone can grab it.” He ranted back.

We arrived at the second level of hell and the introduction to this place is not pleasant at all. This is a clustered place where the people are all suffering crushed by giant piles of material over their body. I could hear their groans and moans as they feel the burden over them. There is also a bad stench of garbage and other rotten things. Paul says “This section is where the greedy spenders are placed.” I talked with a drug lord from the Fast Five Hernan Reyes and he told me about the different people here. He said some of the others like him were Carter Verone and Arturo Braga. All three of them were once in their life big Drug Lords and possessed a lot of money. He said, “During my early life I was very greedy and I once spent some money

A devil object awoke me from my peaceful slumber. Picking up said object, I slid my finger across the bar to turn off the alarm and slowly managed to slither myself from under the sheets and made my way to the bathroom. I was starting a new school today and I was nervous. Unsure if there were any makeup regulations, I stuck to a natural makeup look and headed downstairs to grab some cereal.

Gravity beared down on me cripplingly as the weight of the revolver numbed my coarse hands. Lips chapped, mouth agape, and eyes sweeping, I tensed the trigger gazing in anguish as the deafening crack resounded throughout the expanse. Fluid sputtering on my face; the foreboding taste of blood clinched my tongue. Confusion at the torrential flow of blood, shock, anger, disbelief, and finally a ghastly sense of fear; a stammering wheeze was uttered from the disfigured man’s lips as he plummeted onto the harsh asphalt – ‘perpetuus tantibus’. Liquid spilling out from his throat, I gathered my emotions quickly as I absconded in fear. Sirens resonating in the distance, I sought asylum in a decrepit household. Panel by panel, I sandwiched my fingers between the clefts heaving away at the eroded nails that held the sheets in place, thwarting the entrance. Splinters probing away at my fingers, and dust blistering my vision; a sensation of solace arose with the swift snap of the panels. Escorted with my rusty lighter, I entered the derelict.

Across my life I have split my time between Canada for the school year, California in the summers, and my birthplace of Hong Kong during holidays. These three places are like unique and distant points of a wide triangle. Hong Kong is fueled by modern technology set in a highly urban setting, contrasted by a deeply traditional culture, with values focused on revering elders. Canada offers a rather provincial lifestyle complete with eco evangelists, ice hockey prowess, and great pride in not being annexed by the US. As for the US, people are multi-cultural, independent and admirably patient in queues – particularly while standing in line before the gleaming edifices of museums – built to represent the cultural level they wish to be known for.

This summer was one of the best summer in my life. There was crying, laughing, and peeing our pants; just kidding. I hope I have another like this one. There are a million things we did this year and some things happened again like once or twice or maybe a thousand times. I tried new things and went new places.

The sound of the singing bowl's ring, marking the start of a yoga session, I reluctantly hoist both legs overhead, creating the plow pose. Suddenly, I feel pain trickling into my back.

You can never judge a book by it's cover, sometimes that book may be pretty on the outside but it could be broken on the inside like a mirror that was dropped with pieces that could not be put back together. I come from a family where we were once a “Family” but we let differences brake us. At this point in my life I was eleven years old learning to be independent,learning how to handle school on my own, not letting others define me as a person or who i was going to become. Again I was only eleven, a lot of eleven year olds i know today didn't do the things I did as a kid. Now there was a time in my life where i played with barbies and had a favorite blanket that i could not let go of. Every family goes through things there is no such thing as perfect.