Chapter Thirty-One: Seven Hells

"It wasn't real?" I asked.

"No," the writer said, "it was all real. That was the point. You had to face yourself and forgive yourself."

"For what?" I said.

"For whatever," he said.

"I found myself back at my parents' house," Tulip said. "It was...freaky. Nothing bad had happened, not like last time, with the other me. But there was still tension and...I had to confront my parents about some stuff. It wasn't pleasant."

"What about you?" I asked the writer. "Where did you find yourself?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "We're wasting time. The next step of our journey is ahead."

"Which is?" Tulip asked.

"The Seven Heavens and Seven Hells," the writer said, pulling out the notebook. "The Seven Hells would be the easiest to get to, since all we need would be a Charon."

"A Charon?" I said.

"A ferryman," the writer said. "Someone to ferry us into Hell. I suppose we could ask Jack, but he always wants to make a deal. And one of the Fears definitely won't do it."

"Whoa there," Tulip said. "First of all, the Seven Hells don't sound that pleasant. What are they, exactly?"

"Not sure," the writer said. "Never been there. Let me check." He flipped through the notebook and then stopped at a page. "Here we go." He showed it to us.

THERE ARE SEVEN HELLS:

THE HELL OF LIFE, THE HELL OF LOVE, THE HELL OF LOSS,

THE HELL OF LONELINESS, THE HELL OF LOATHING,

THE HELL OF LOOKING, AND THE HELL OF LANGUAGE.

"Oh, that can't be right," Tulip said. "'The Hell of Language'? What, are we going to get attacked by a gerund?"

"We'll get to that when we get to it," the writer said. "Now we need a ferryman, a person who can move between life and death easily." The writer scratched his chin and then snapped his fingers. "I know just the guy." He grinned a manic grin. "We need Omega."