A teenager's account of his time in hell. When the demons couldn't torture him, they sent him to a place more gruesome - high school.
When I found myself in hell I learned several things. One, there really is a Devil and he does rule over hell.
Two, an eye for an eye does not extend to the lives of the gang members who did not personally kill your sister.
Three, when you splash gasoline all over a body shop you also splash gasoline on yourself.
The fourth and most important lesson I learned was before you light the match with the intentions of burning down the gas station and killing the man that murdered your sister, you would be wise to leave the building instead of waking him up so he could see you pass your judgment on his life.
In hell, everyone is assigned their own demon caseworker. His job is to make sure you're as unhappy as possible and hell lives up to its reputation. Much to my caseworker’s disappointment, after living through Misery's death, none of the hells they created for me had the desired effect. I told him after living through my years in high school, I thought I could endure all he had to offer. So he promptly beamed me back to the fiery pits of high school.