This whole thing started in 2012. My Mom had divorced my Dad three years before, and my stepdad lost the house to Chapter 7 bankruptcy.

I was 26 at the time. Deemed unemployable due to my Post-Concussion Trauma eight years earlier I couldn't work, and my stepfather mentally and physically tormented me.

I had inflicted self-harm over the years; I chewed my index fingers when I was angry or frustrated, sometimes to the point of bleeding. When I was living with him and my half-sister it got far worse, along with me constantly wanting to sleep in the basement I called a bedroom. I had been sapped, and had lost the will to live. In February, I threw a party and had my friends over. They had all noticed it as well: My weight gain and the loss of the spark I used to have.

In June, a while after I went to Montreal, Canada for the first time, I had a terrible nightmare that shook me to the core of my being.

It started with my mother, her husband Tino and I in a small motorboat. We were simply heading down the canal at sunset: The sun was going down in gold over the tree line, and reflected beautifully across the water.

I looked toward the horizon in front of us, and noticed black, inky clouds. Thunder was rumbling and lightning glowed from them as a massive funnel formed. The funnel began advancing down the canal, drinking the bed dry and reducing anything it touched to dust.
Tino slammed the boat into reverse, doing a 180. We hit the dock with such force we almost capsized. We began to run from the coming storm as fast as we could... then I made the fatal mistake of turning around.

When I turned, the funnel cloud had shrunken to my height. It lifted me off the ground; all I could see was pitch-black as my breath was pulled from my lungs.
After what seemed to be a century, the funnel dropped me. The ground was pitch black, and I stood up to see before me a massive, black expanse, which was accented by fiery red lava, and an endless sky of the darkest blue.

I walked forward; I could see my chest rising and falling to breathe, but couldn't feel it in my mouth or nostrils. Then, I saw a tall, faceless man before me, all in black: Essentially a walking silhouette.

He reached a hand out to me as I stood before him; I wanted to recoil, but my legs refused to move. I felt a slow, icy feeling overtake me as he placed his hand on my head: A weight immeasurable... as if an eternity's worth of sorrow, grief and hurt had been placed squarely upon my shoulders.

I saw my Mom, and I tried to move toward her, but it was if this weight was firmly clamped around my heart, stopping me from moving. I could still stand and move, but it just dragged so much...

I finally reached my Mom. I looked up to her and asked, "Mom, did we die?" She looked down crying and said, "Yes son, we did."

As the scene panned out I heard a sorrowful music I couldn't describe, and I woke up as I got a glimpse of this world's entirety.

I was panicked and terrified, crying my eyes out. I called my grandfather, and he told me that I saw Hell.

I actually stood before the Devil himself...

Author's Note

I am sure you all are wondering what this has to do with ponies. However, be patient; you must understand both the Light and Dark sides of this expereince in order to fully know what I have been through and what changed my thinking.