Hugh Gately – My Idea of Hell
My Idea of Hell
By: Hugh Gately
I woke up in searing pain, so much pain. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Slowly, it eased away. I looked around, but couldn’t see anything beyond the small bit of light that encircled me. I looked down and realised the light was coming from me, I was on fire! I started to panic, but there was no pain, just warmth. I strained my eyes and managed to make out walls of earth, rushing upwards all around me. Then I realised they weren’t moving up, I was falling down, at hundreds of miles per hour, down what seemed like a bottomless pit. After a while, a face the size of my body, which was completely made of fire, materialised out of nowhere. “Hello, Gavin!” it said “You have arrived at the Hall of Judgement. Have a nice time!” I slammed face-first on the ground.
At the Hall of Judgement, I did NOT have a good time. It was a huge hall with a black marble floor and roof and big black columns decorating the black walls. Three guys with black suits and theatre masks, one happy, one sad and one angry, talked about my life without even noticing the flaming guy standing next to them. Then they turned to me. “Gavin Powers” said Happy Face “You’ve had a complicated life.” “Too difficult to judge” said Sad Face “But we have come to a conclusion.” “You will be sent to the Arena of Punishment” seethed Angry Face “Until we have decided your fate.” I took a step back as wicked stretched across their masks. “Gavin Powers” they all said “WELCOME TO HELL.”
I must have blacked out because I opened my eyes to find myself in a room with bare walls and fire instead of a floor. I was suspended in mid-air by a rope hanging from the ceiling, around my neck. It felt the same as being hung, same pain, same suffering, but, as I was already dead, the pain stayed with me. Once a day, that fiery face would appear and tell me what I’d be doing for the day. Then the rope would snap, I’d fall into the fire and be teleported to my day’s activity.
This was my weekly routine:
Monday: Clean the Eternal Bathrooms of Doom
Tuesday: Cut Death’s garden with nail clippers.
Wednesday: Dig a hole big enough to bury a house, using no tools and no fingernails.
Thursday: Dissect myself and then put all my body parts back in the right places.
Friday: Run a marathon through a zombie apocalypse.
Saturday: Have a gunfight with Osama Binladin and Alchida.
Sunday: Listen to Justin Bieber singing all his songs in my face, followed by One Direction and Jedward.
So, as you can imagine, I had lots of fun. As if!!
On around my fifth week at the Arena of Punishment, after Sunday’s activity (my least favourite by FAR), I was teleported to a different room than the usual fiery room where I was hung. In this room, it was just bare walls. That is, except for one, which had a door and window. This was my chance. I ran for the door. This was it. I was free. I grinned like a maniac. No one could stop me now. No one at all. And that’s when the door burst off its hinges and Death strolled into the room.
He was wearing a long, black cloak which reached the ground. His hood was up, concealing his face. “Gavin Powers” he said “Thanks for cutting my garden!. Anyway, back to business. Follow me.” He turned and walked away. Reluctantly, I followed. After a while, I asked “So, have you decided my fate yet?” “Yes” he said “You will be going to college for eternity.” College! I thought That can’t be so bad!. We got to the top of a hill and I saw the college. When I saw it, I wanted to run screaming back to the Arena of Punishment, but I seemed frozen in fear. “Welcome” said Death, as red as can be, with evil eyes and a mouth which appeared under his hood “To your Local and Eternal Irish College.”
Hugh Gately, 5th class,