That day I made that post, I asked the Network if they could tell me what "Hell" was. I found out that, in a lot of peoples' worlds, Hell is a place where people go when they die if they've been really, really bad all their lives. Like...you know. All the terrible things you could think of that a person might do for some reason or another, I guess.
I found out that day that my home is what people call Hell everywhere else. It's called Miseryville for me...which I guess should've made me think already, but I didn't know what that was back then. I'd never even heard of it, and when people told me they kept saying how it was such an awful, terrible place, full of demons and lava and fire forever...and that's exactly what home is like.
The sky's red, not blue. The ocean's made of lava. My best friend is a demon. And that also meant that I must have died, right? It kindof made sense, from there. I don't remember anything other than Miseryville. Well, I remember...some stuff. Like snow. I knew what snow was, but nobody else did. I guess I had snow back when I was alive, and remembered that somehow.
For a long time, I was really scared that I must have been a really bad person to go to Hell. I couldn't remember, so I didn't know for sure. I still don't know for sure. But...I don't think I'm a bad person. I try to do everything I can to help people, and make other people happy. It doesn't matter if I live in Hell, or Miseryville, or...wherever.
I don't want anyone else to have to ever feel the way I did. Like they don't know what to do, or who to turn to when something like that happens. Everybody deserves to have that much...at least, that's what I think.
[Private]
That day I made that post, I asked the Network if they could tell me what "Hell" was. I found out that, in a lot of peoples' worlds, Hell is a place where people go when they die if they've been really, really bad all their lives. Like...you know. All the terrible things you could think of that a person might do for some reason or another, I guess.
I found out that day that my home is what people call Hell everywhere else. It's called Miseryville for me...which I guess should've made me think already, but I didn't know what that was back then. I'd never even heard of it, and when people told me they kept saying how it was such an awful, terrible place, full of demons and lava and fire forever...and that's exactly what home is like.
The sky's red, not blue. The ocean's made of lava. My best friend is a demon. And that also meant that I must have died, right? It kindof made sense, from there. I don't remember anything other than Miseryville. Well, I remember...some stuff. Like snow. I knew what snow was, but nobody else did. I guess I had snow back when I was alive, and remembered that somehow.
For a long time, I was really scared that I must have been a really bad person to go to Hell. I couldn't remember, so I didn't know for sure. I still don't know for sure. But...I don't think I'm a bad person. I try to do everything I can to help people, and make other people happy. It doesn't matter if I live in Hell, or Miseryville, or...wherever.
I don't want anyone else to have to ever feel the way I did. Like they don't know what to do, or who to turn to when something like that happens. Everybody deserves to have that much...at least, that's what I think.