Hell's Levels | Teen Ink

Hell's Levels

May 20, 2016
By PhotoSpace BRONZE, Mishawaka, Indiana
PhotoSpace BRONZE, Mishawaka, Indiana
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Stop the train I'm not having it


Level one is full of spiders. Spiders that vary in size and shoot poison and webs. As well as the spiders there are small children with snot running from their noses and hands covered in a sticky mess of mystery. It also contains disembodied yelling. Good things and bad things being screamed from nowhere. I’ve heard these things since I was young. As you travel farther and farther down the level the profanity gets more creative. Finally you get to a point where no one is yelling at you, but every eye is on you. There are bloodshot eyes all around. And they don’t look away or blink. It’s creepy. They follow your every move. If you were to stumble or trip laughter would sound. You know when you’re getting closer to hell level two when the floor beneath your feet starts rumbling and you’re getting pushed left and right by hollow husks of people you use to know, who you use to be friends with. They have black circles under their eyes, and water streams running from their wide gaping eye sockets. When they bump into you they don’t apologize. They can’t talk. They have no voice. It’s unsettling. At the gate of level two are two giants. They look familiar. They look almost like the husks. But they are different. They ask you what’s wrong with you in a mocking voice. If you tell  them what’s wrong they laugh and the door opens. If you don’t, they keep asking and their voices get louder and louder.

Level two greets you with a crowd. The crowd is full of people wearing nice looking clothes and masks. Their faces are fully covered and the voices aren’t muffled. You start to feel jealous of their outfits. Then you feel depressed and embarrassed. You don’t feel like you fit in. You stand out in fact. Their laughing and chatting. There is no way around the group. You have to proceed through it. As you bump into everyone you start gathering tears in your eyes. When you finally get passed everyone and out of the crowd you see you are alone. The crowd is gone. It’s pitch black. Through the darkness you can tell something is moving. It looks like a person, but at the same time as if it is gas. You hold your breath and immediately are paralyzed. Whatever it was that was moving was in front of you. You feel it move and you regain the ability to move once more. As you walk it gets brighter and brighter, and you feel someone's presence behind you. But no one is there. The feeling doesn’t leave. You reach close to the midpoint of the level, and you know that this is still the beginning of something much more dread bringing. There was another group of people. But they were different. They were crying and bleeding. You go up to one. They’re ripping off their own skin. It’s vomit inducing. You look around. They’re all doing it. Your eyes and stomach can’t handle it anymore. You give in and lose your lunch. It burns. You wipe your mouth and continue on. Knowing you left all those people to suffer hurts you, your throat burns more. But you have to continue moving, so says another disembodied voice. You know their right, but you feel terrible about it. You make it to a door. It’s not the way out, but it’s the only way to the exit. Inside was a bunch of dresses and skirts. It was really pink and glittery. You’re not so scared here. But it’s unsettling. You make your way to another door. It brings you to a blue room with shorts and basket-balls. A voice booms to choose the right answer. You go into the blue room. They shout wrong. The pink door locks and you’re shouted at. You run to the end of the room. The finale exit. It brings you to level three. The same giants are back. “Who hurt you?” They boom. You tell them. They laugh and open the door.

Level three ushers you into it with a ton of papers flying towards you. You manage to catch one. It says lies about you. But also so truth. You feel betrayed. You catch a few more. They all say the same things, but changed up. You grit your teeth and your fists ball up, crushing the papers within them. You stomp off. More papers. More edits. Some having drawings on them. There of you. You start bawling. Laughter booms in the background. Angrily you wipe the tears and snot off your blood rushed face and move forward. Still the papers come. They range from just letters to full on reports. You feel like burning them all up. But you don’t want to get in more trouble. So you just cry as you walk through the crowded walkway. No doubt you’re embarrassed. You end up tuning out the papers from your frazzled little mind. But that doesn’t last when they become audible. It’s loud too. Much louder than all the sounds from level one and two combined. It’s ear splitting. You cover your ears, but it doesn’t help. “Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.” You chime at them, forcing a smile. You keep smiling and making comments back. But you know it doesn’t faze the voices. They get more originative and personal. You drop your smile and continue walking. “No using in staying here and letting them get to me, when I can get out of here.” You say wobbily. You keep walking. Not caring about the voices as they travel with you. You’re roughly about two or so miles from the finale exit. And it hits you hard. They bring up the one thing you hate most. They see it hurts you and keeps it up. You bit your lip and clench your fists tight. You can’t handle them anymore. Before you could say anything you hear someone calling. “Watch out they yell.” And push you. It looked like a husk. But they could speak and they had their eyes. Before you could thank them, a big sword comes and slashes them into two. Dust flies everywhere. You wipe your eyes and pick up a hand up of dust. Your tears continue, and the voices stop. You make your way the the exit. “Are you okay?” The giants ask. “Yes.” You tell them. The door opens. A bright light blinds you and you know you’ve escaped another level.


The author's comments:

I'm a student in high school, I'm also transgender. The reason I wrote this piece is because of who I am as a person, who I identify as, I am constently getting bullied. I wrote it to open eyes and to inform people what it's like to be me. I await the days when we all can just get along and not make a fuss over bathroom useage or what body parts someone wants or has. This is why I wrote Hell's Levels. I want to show what it's like for transpeople, for teens, for everyone. I just want us all to get along.


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