August 5, 2015


I'm going to hell.

Yes, I'm going to hell and it's time I accepted this fact and admit to the world that I am deserving of the endless torment that awaits me in the afterlife. I've joked for years that I was going to go to Hell because that's where all the cool or interesting people go. (I'm not cool, nor interesting) But I never believed it. I don't believe Hell exist; it sounds so illogical. One bad deed in this life and you're spending eternity in a festering pit? That's sounds an awful lot like my mother's threats to sell me into slave labor because my grades slipped. It's an idle threat, nothing more.

Still, I'm going to hell when I die.

I haven't killed anyone or had any sordid affairs, I don't go around kicking puppies or stealing candy from kids. I am not a terrible person. I don't have time to be a terrible person. Between an overloaded class schedule and my job waitressing all the hours I can get, the worst thing I've ever done is download a term paper at an inflated price. And I only got a B on it. (I paid for A-level material but you try fighting that with Paypal.) I also bought a lotto ticket and, for that, I am going to hell.

Maybe I was already damned. I'm not sure what the Bible has to say about cheating but I think gambling may be a sin. Over the years I've purchased several tickets to enjoy a brief few hours dreaming about what it would be like to live free from the burden of student loans. If that's enough to damn my soul for eternity well... But that's not why I know I'm going to hell with such certainty. You see, when I bought the ticket, she was there.



That, my friends, is Satan.




Next: That fateful day.