The landscape was completely barren; a flat span of gray rock extended as far as I could see in every direction. There were a few rocks here and there, but other than that, nothing—no plants, no insects, no life. The sky was black, although I could somehow still see despite the lack of light. A constant cold, howling wind blew, creating an atmosphere that could suck out all of one’s happiness and hope.

            Not sure how I had gotten here or what I should do, I began to walk. The last thing I knew, I had decided to go to sleep instead of writing my paper for Mrs. Lampman. What had happened? Had I died? Where was I now? This place certainly did not seem like heaven.

            As I walked, the wind began to grow stronger, and soon I realized that something was up ahead. Eventually the stone that I was walking on ended, and the ground disappeared, forming a giant abyss. Inside the abyss was a howling vortex; it was not unlike a whirlpool, except it was formed by wind rather than water. It went on as far as I could see ahead of me. I peered over the edge, but was unable to see its bottom.

            “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” suddenly warned a familiar voice from behind me, startling me so much that I jumped and almost lost my balance and fell in. “You’d be in big trouble if you fell in.”

            I turned around, and, sure enough, the person behind me was Donald Gosart. “What are you doing here?” I demanded. “And where are we?”

            “We’re in hell!” Donald replied cheerfully. “Well, not technically hell, but the surface of hell. You’re probably just dreaming, because if you were dead you’d be in hell itself.”

            “Oh,” I said, somewhat relieved that I was just dreaming. “What do I do now, then? How do I get out of here?”