“Hell is the creation of those who blind themselves to the truth. It is all encompassing and those souls who create their own hell, spend eternity in it, there is no escape.”
For some stupid reason I say “I don’t understand?”
He looks at me and smiles “I’ll show you.”
I’m in a faceless street in a nameless town. Everything looks ‘exactly’ the same as the real world, whatever the real world may be… but everything is different, cold. All I can see are people trying to continue with their everyday routine in some crazy mixed up way, all I can hear are people crying out in anguish and pain. Here there is no empathy or compassion, love nor hope. The balance of emotions we were blessed with to fully experience the beauty of life is gone and all that remains is an all encompassing sorrow for its loss, never easing, never ending, complete and eternal…
The church got it wrong, damnation isn’t about burning in the pit of hell, it is about eternally drowning in the tears of your own sorrow… I have no hope. I can’t stop crying. I close my eyes…
…then open them to a scene of idyllic beauty. We are both sat on a park bench on a hill overlooking a typical country meadow. It’s a warm summers day and things couldn’t be more peaceful. He allows me the time to compose myself and I sit there silent, as I make a list of the things I have to put right when, no, if I make it home. Home, even the word itself seems a million miles away, but right now the thought of returning to it is the only thing keeping me going.
“Why did you leave me there for so long?” I ask him.
“One day is nothing compared to eternity.”
A long time passes before I speak again
“Why is this happening to me?”
“Because you are listening” he says
“Because I am listening! I don’t underst… No, let me rephrase that. I need you to explain ‘exactly’ why I’m here, sat on a bench next to ‘you’ and and we are having ‘this’ conversation?”
