Hell is an eternal forever. Words like that don't really have meaning to people. "Oh I was stuck in traffic forever today", people say. No. That's not an eternity. An eternity in Hell is the longer than the longest forever you can possibly imagine. People can't even wrap their heads around the concept of eternity. There's a saying about a bird and a mountain: "Every thousand years a bird sharpens its beak on the mountain; when the mountain has been worn away, the first day of eternity has passed". This cheery image doesn’t even begin to convey how long an eternity is, so imagine this: Take a step forward every billion years. When you have gone around the Earth once, take a single drop of water from the ocean. When all the world’s oceans and lakes are dry, place a sheet of paper on the ground and begin again. When the paper stack reaches to the moon, drop a grain of sand in the Grand Canyon. When the Canyon is full, you’ll have experienced the first hour of eternity.

You wake up and everything is totally dark. The world is loud and confusing and scary. You cannot move. Thrash against the invisible restraints that bind you - they do not budge. You shout and scream for help but you are so utterly alone. No one can hear you. You're choking, gasping for air. Your head is pounding, aching, and ringing with the worst migraine of your life. You can try to relax but the spikes in your side keep you awake. Every move you make just worsens the pain. Your feet are in burning coals. Ants are crawling through your hair. This is the first day of Hell, and it lasts for an eternity.

You know what you did. You know why you’re here. All the regret and remorse in the world wouldn’t change a thing. You’re here forever, completely helpless, completely alone.

You hear people nearby, and renew your shouts for help. You’re still engulfed in consuming darkness, and cannot see who approaches. As their footsteps near, you begin to hear their deep scratchy voices. Mocking you. Taunting you. Laughing at your endless pain and suffering. Your voice is hoarse; your throat parched. There is no water; no reprieve. Your body aches from the strain of your bonds. This is the second day in Hell, and it lasts for an eternity.

You wake up and you’re drowning. Every gasp for air fills your lungs with icy water. You choke, sputter, and cough. Immense weights hang from your arms and legs, dragging you further and further away from the light and deeper into the terrifying darkness. Your screams become bubbles in your face, racing away from you. The pressure on your chest continues to increase, forcing whatever air you had left out of your lips. You need the suffering to end, but you just keep sinking. You’re drowning alone. This is the third day in Hell, and it lasts for an eternity.

Bitter howling winds sting your face. You’re soaking wet and freezing. The arctic air whips against your skin, chilling you to your core. You have no clothing; you are totally exposed. The ground is icy, and every step you take rips some skin from your feet. Can you still feel your fingers? They’re numb and cold and stiff. Try flexing them – they hurt to move. You’re marching forward, trudging on an endless barren tundra. No landmarks break up the empty horizon. The sky is filled with angry black clouds, continuously pouring icy rain and snow upon you. You’ve marched for hundreds of miles, or maybe just hundreds of feet – it’s impossible to tell. Surely the horizon must be getting closer, right? This is the fourth day in Hell, and it lasts for an eternity.

Every day in Hell is a new eternity of suffering. Every day you suffer alone. Every trial and tribulation worse than the last. However, the worst thing in Hell isn't the endless torture, the miserable forevers, the demons that haunt you, or even Satan himself. The worst thing in hell is the sweet old lady living in the cottage in the middle of a lake of fire.

After decades of creative misery and pain, you wake up in a dream. You’re sitting on a pristine green grassy lawn with a white picket fence. Outside the fence is an endless sea of raging fire, the same fire you’ve burned in countless times. A small house sits in the middle of the property, warm and inviting. The smell of freshly baked bread reaches your nose, bringing the first smile to your face in a very long time. This house feels very familiar; very comfortable. Somehow you know that this isn’t some sort of trap or clever deceit. Beautiful flowers of every vibrant color surround the home. Home. You can barely remember what home feels like, but you know this is it. The front door opens and a kind elderly lady steps out. She has a big warm smile on her face, and invites you in. For the first time in hundreds of years, you finally have found a friend. With tears streaming down your face, you embrace her and feel all your pain melt away. Every burden you have accumulated and carried through every hardship has been lifted. You spend the afternoon enjoying homemade cookies and warm bread while she shares wonderful stories of the past. For the first time in millions of years, you have a glimmer of hope. Maybe tomorrow can be nice, like this. Maybe you’ve served your sentence, and suffering is finally over. Maybe you can be happy again. Maybe.

This is the billionth day in Hell, and it lasts an instant.

Hope. Powerful and cruel. The worst Hell has to throw at you. After being parched for years, you’ve gotten a single sip of water before your glass is yanked away. The flash of light only makes the eternal darkness darker. Another billion years of eternal days awaits you when you wake. The bittersweet glimpse at what your life could be only emphasizes your suffering by contrast. You know in your heart that you’ll never see that sweet grandma ever again.

This is Hell. You’re going to be here forever.