Can't get the damn thing to except it. It's a deviation. A deviation of my life. I call it Living Hell.

It is misty. The mist is thick everywhere, covering everything. Covering me.
My white friend follows, his cold presence pressing around me. We are mere mist.
The cold blood in my veins pumps. My ears ring. My mouth is dry. My life is a living hell.
A hell I cannot escape. My only friend those in the dead. My white friend touches my shoulder. I shiver. We both know danger is coming. Hell and all its demons are after me. Me and my white friend.
The sound of hell hounds reach my ears. My white friend pulls me back, his cold voice cutting through my fearful thoughts. “Run.” What better to say when hell is at your heels?
I turn, and run. The hell hounds hear me, and their baying is sharp in the cold air. My white friends runs beside me, encouraging me on. The hell warriors pull out their burning swords. We must get to the fire. What better to fight hell with but with fire?
The fire’s warmth cannot reach me, but I feel it trying to. Grabbing one of the dark, charred sticks, I pull its end from the fire’s embers. As hell comes at me, I turn, and face the hell warriors, and their hell hounds.
My white friend tries to distract them, but they have found what they wanted. Me. They want me. Stupid me. I’m alive in the world of the dead. What is more of a threat than a living soul?
The hell hounds bay, rejoicing for finding the source of the scent they’ve been tracking endlessly. I’m facing hell, with on a white friend to help me. I’m facing hell. HELL.
One warrior steps forward. I know him, but I don’t. Something in his eyes I think remember, but that reflects in them masks it before I remember completely.
Then, the warrior pulls the burning helmet that hides so much from me, and I feel as if hell has already rid the living from the land of the dead.
The warrior is my brother. The features are cruel now, but still, I know my brother. I feel that I cannot fight him, but I know I must. The grin that comes to his face is so cruel, so evil that I shrink back. My brother his hell.
Hell. I’m in hell, facing hell everyday of my life. I live, but am in the land of the dead. With my white friend, and this computer, I hang to life.
I live in a living hell.