[ WP ] Due to a clerical error , you were born in hell and spent a century there , before being sent to Earth to live for an eternity

My first memories weren ’ t of my parents, or my siblings, or of falling down and scraping my knee, or giggling with a friend. My first memories were of fire searing my face, smoke choking my lungs, my own screams popping my eardrums, sorrow strangling my heart, and despair tying me to the rocky floor of a place most know as Hell. Born where darkness reigned, this is where I lived and knew nothing else. 
 
 When I turned ten, a creature dug its claws into my belly, spilling my innards across another woman ’ s screaming mouth. The creature looked to me, and as he spat out hissing hornets and centipedes dripping with poison, he said: you spent your mortal life turning from good and embracing darkness; I shall give you the darkness you so sorely wanted. I didn ’ t know what the creature meant. I never turned from good! But Hell wasn ’ t for understanding, just existing. 
 When I turned sixteen, I found true love for the first time: the moments between sobs when my mouth gasped for more air to cry, when my thoughts wondered from the pity upon my own soul—I came to love and cherish those moments which seemed to swell and last for weeks. That was love in a place full of hate. 
 Upon my eightieth year in the dwelling of the damned, the creatures of my world seemed to focus upon me more and more—not with any increased malice or aggression, but curiosity. There was something about my soul that had caught their attention. I thought it was odd, as I was like any other soul: shackled to torture that made me curse my own existence. I didn ’ t fight or avoid the punishments forced upon me, because what ’ s a man to do when all he ’ s known is submission to darkness? I knew something was off, and focused my attention when I wasn ’ t wailing in agony. 
 
 My one hundredth year in hell arrived. On this day, I was truly scared for the first time I could remember. I was led through darkness lit only by the embers of smoking coals. My body seemed to glow with pleasure, as I was allowed to simply exist for the first time in my life, free of thorns digging into my skull, or claws carving open my back. We arrived in a room full of ancient shelves and charred scrolls. Boil-riddled creatures scurried like spiders. Something was definitely wrong, and the fear in the creatures ’ eyes made me feel sorry for them for the slightest moment. They were fixing a problem, and if they didn ’ t fix it fast, punishment awaited them. The creatures knew nothing of the pain of the damned, and I wouldn ’ t wish that upon anyone—not even my torturers. 
 
 “ There ’ s been a mistake, ” hissed a goblin with half a head, its teeth fluttering like ash. “ You were born in hell instead of on Earth. You will never hear these words again in this place, so cherish them: we are sorry. ” 
 
 “ Sorry? ” I asked. 
 
 “ You will be sent to Earth to live. And as a show of how truly sorry we are, you will be allowed to live forever. Age, disease, destruction—nothing will ever harm you. Enjoy your new life. ” 
 
 Before I could process the news, a wall opened up revealing a staircase covered in dust. The goblin pointed me up the stairs, and I climbed, not wanting to waste a minute. When I saw the sun for the first time, I broke down and wept cold tears. This was living. This was life. Never again would I see hell, and for that I was forever grateful. 
 
 I spent my first year on Earth walking from city to city, talking with anyone that wanted to talk. I didn ’ t care about these things called “ cars, ” or technology, or finding a job, or anything. I just wanted to speak with other people. I lived on the streets, shivering in the rain, begging for food, and surviving like an animal; I loved every minute of it. I remember speaking to a man once that cursed his luck: he was born with a terrible deformity that left him unable to do much of anything. I hugged this man and told him that a better place awaited him after this life, for he was truly a good person. I met a woman who cried on my shoulder—she said she had wasted her life, and that it was too late to repair her relationship with her daughter, and to love again. I told her that it ’ s never too late to fix things and enjoy your life. I was proof of that. 
 
 In my twenty years on Earth, I made many friends, and gained many memories. Then the day came when I felt that feeling of despair in my soul that I thought I ’ d never feel again. I found out not just one, not two, but all of my friends would soon be dead. And their friends and family would soon be dead. And so on. I did not take the news well. Would you? I said my goodbyes to my friends, thanking them for filling me with so much joy, and assured them that they were going to a better place. 
 
 Just after the day of my twenty-first year on Earth, I was met with the searing heat, choking smoke, and screams that I knew all too well. Some called it a “ heavenly body, ” that slammed into Earth, although if it truly was sent from Heaven, then I ’ d argue that only hell awaits man after death. Not a single soul survived the impact, let alone a single-celled organism. It would be tens of thousands of years—maybe hundreds of thousands of years before anything resembling a human would walk this planet again. 
 
 I remained alive, of course. I was given the gift of eternity on Earth. I looked around at the lava that gushed, the fires that blazed, and the gasses that suffocated the air: I had returned to the hell from which I had been birthed. Home had found its son. However, true Hell is filled with voices pleading for mercy, screams of agony, writhing bodies, and the blood of mankind. The rocky caverns are littered with the worst that mankind has to offer, but it is filled with mankind none the less. Now Earth was inhabited by the silence of infinity. I never thought I ’ d miss the torturous existence of hell, but I ’ d trade eternity on a lonely rock to experience true sadness and despair with my fellow human souls once again. 

