In Hell, the world is pale, filtered through pain so colours are wan, sounds dull, life around you detached, apart, alien.In Hell, there is no joy or ...aughter, no highs, just endless lows. In Hell, you’re an emotional cripple.Hell is a state of mind and no one could help me. No one could save me. I was trapped by memories, the only memories I had - six months of Addison four years ago. I had no other memories to distract me.In this Hell, I adapted. I’d learned to lie. I’d learned to fake social. “Trust me, Uncle Jim; please.....I've been drinking since I was fifteen. No one will know, unless you tell them”, she retorted. Against my better judgment, I gave in and made her a Dirty Banana...and another...and another. Soon we were giggling like little k**s. We get along so well, I thought or maybe it was the whiskey. Whatever the case, it was difficult not to notice her cleavage as we talked. She had dropped the towel down the seat behind her long ago and was sitting cross-legged on the. More

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