When I moved to Pennsylvania, I learned about the seven gates of hell. It was all very exciting to me because I like scary stuff. While the rest of you count sheep to sleep, I count demons. I think it’s because I have anxiety for no reason, so actually giving myself a reason to have it is soothing.
Either way, if you’re not familiar with it, The Seven Gates of Hell is—supposedly—located in York County Pennsylvania. I must admit, if there were a gate (or seven) to hell, it would be in York County, because York is pretty much the second closest place to hell. But, I’m starting to believe the gates of hell have been secretly transported to my house.
The legend says that these gates are in a township called Hellam. There are two versions of this legend, and no one can seem to agree on which is better. One involves an old insane asylum that burned to the ground, killing everyone in it, and the other involves a creepy doctor. Depending on which legend you prefer, the township of Hellam inherited hell and anyone who passes through all seven gates will go straight to the fiery pits to be burned for eternity like a hot dog on Satan’s pitch fork. Of course, these gates are in a wooded area, and normal people suspect that the first gate was only erected to keep out trespassers. I, as you know, am not normal.
The seven gates of hell are kind of like my mind. I put up a gate to keep people out, and the further along I go, the more gates I find. Sitting in my head undistracted is like jumping over the fifth or sixth gate…just close enough to feel the fire, yet perfectly unscathed. So now, I’m all, let’s go find these gates, and everyone I know is like, dude we will get arrested…or go to hell. And, I can’t tell you which is scarier: finding the seven gates of hell, sitting in my head undistracted, or being arrested. I would like to test that theory, but I wouldn’t want to ruin a perfectly good friendship by bringing someone else along.
Last week I came across a few living creatures, which make me believe the seven gates of hell were transported to my house. But, I live in Lancaster, not Hellam; so that doesn’t fit with the whole theme. My cousin came over one night last week, and I made her a really healthy dinner of onion rings and French fries…because fuck it, why not? Our house is detached from our garage—separated by a breezeway that connects to the yard at the back of the house. So, there are a lot of entrances. We also have a freezer in the garage where I keep French fries and onion rings on deck just in case one of my cousins come over.
I had to walk outside through the side door (gate number 1) to reach the breezeway (gate number 2), which leads to the deck door (gate number 3) and the garage door (gate number 4). For some reason, all the gates seemed especially icky that night. I had that same feeling I get when I sit undistracted in my head for too long. I crept through gates 1&2, avoided gate 3, and ran straight to gate number 4. Then, I opened it.
I don’t know if I heard it or felt it first, but I knew it was there. As the garage door creaked open, a large thing fell from the gap at the top of the doorway. It hit me in the head and made a loud thud sound at the same time, which is why I can’t tell if I heard it or felt it first. This thing was more hung than LL Cool J’s anaconda, but you can’t tell from the photo because it’s bottom half is behind the door.
I called for Sam, and she came running. When she found me, I was stuck between gates number 2&4…because it was fucking hissing at me. I’m not afraid of snakes at all. But for all I know, it could have totally been Satan because I’m a shitty person and now I’m probably possessed. I’ve been left to my own devices with a completely undistracted mind. Sam took two photos, and then she ran (screaming) back inside because she hates me. Once I gathered enough courage to scoot past the anaconda, I literally turned back around to make sure it wasn’t chasing me, and it was FUCKING GONE. And I mean…GONE. Poof. Like a fairy snake. Or a demon.
The next night, I was all alone. It was late, and I walked downstairs to get water. As I stood in the kitchen, inches from gate number 1, I noticed something move on the kitchen floor. It was dark, but our kitchen floor is white so I could see it flashing as it crawled toward me. I flicked on the light and died a little inside. There it sat, a mere inch away from me: Satan’s penis. It was a fucking centipede. Not a little one. A huge fucking one. The biggest centipede I have ever seen, just chilling by the first gate of hell.
There are 3 more “gates” at my house…maybe even more…because we have a lot of exits and entrances. I don’t want to go near any of them ever again because who the fuck knows what’s waiting for me at gate number 7. All I know is, I have an axe and a very special hat beside my bed now…just in case my bedroom door is actually the seventh gate to hell. And, at this point in my life, I would not be surprised if it is.
And then she was all like…
So I was all…
I had to handle my own shit…but it’s Ok because Slytherins can be brave too.