Day 2,548

Hell looks different to everybody.

For some it's the classic fiery pit of endless souls burning and screaming and you're always on the precipice of falling in forever. For others it's a situation they can't get out of - an endless argument, the edge of a fistfight, an auditorium of strangers struggling to hold back their sneers and laughter as you hold back your tears and try to talk about something you know absolutely nothing about.

For me, it was the grocery store my mother left me in when I was seven. I didn't die til I was nineteen but that's not the point. The point is that I never really left that moment and now that moment is my eternity, just those endless aisles of blank boxes and cans and flickering fluorescent lights.

Some days there's cashiers round the front and lines of distorted things that I guess are the customers. Makes me wonder what I look like now but the bathrooms are always out of order and there's usually blood or vomit pouring out from underneath the door.

There's always a set of footsteps just out of time with my own, always in the next aisle and always nearby no matter how many aisles I run down or climb up or hide under. Whenever I move, it hears me and it makes sure I hear it too. I used to think it was a demon or something but now I think its my mother.

I guess neither of us ever really left that day but I can't pity her after all these years.

If  it is my mother stalking me through this damned place then I'll just have to kil her.

Again.