Addison everywhere.In Hell, the world is pale, filtered through pain so colours are wan, sounds dull, life around you detached, apart, alien.In Hell, ...here is no joy or laughter, 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. I don’t know why, but at the time, I just did, and then continued to look at the stuff at this old man’s booth. After the old man put the box away back in his motor home, he then looked at me, smiled, and said ‘Hey. How are you, young man?’ I looked at him, and said ‘fine thanks.’ while looking at his stuff. He had lots of crappy old records, but I liked the trinkets. some had the ying-yang symbol on them, and others looked like stuff out of witch central. Then I noticed he had a couple of. More

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