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An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell
An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell
An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell
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An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell

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Poor Akon. nothing but a normal college student sent to the oblivion known to the common man as hell. He is... trapped, and must, to the best of his abilities, escape this deathtrap.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateNov 12, 2014
ISBN9781312671034
An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell

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    Book preview

    An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell - Joseph Woodfin

    An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell

    An All Inclusive Guide on Burning Down Hell

    By: Joey Woodfin

    Copyright Information

    An All Inclusive Guide on Burning Down Hell

    First edition

    Copyright 2014 Joseph Woodfin

    All rights reserved

    ISBN: 978-1-312-67103-4

    This work is under the Creative Commons Atributation-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licences/by-nc/2.5/

    Or send a letter to:

    Creative commons

    171 second street, suite 300

    San Francisco, CA 94105

    USA

    An All Inclusive Guide On Burning Down Hell

    Thanks to:

    Fae Flores for inspiration to write this

    Marissa Salvato for editing services

    Chapter 1

    Akon Sanstone, age 20, destination Scotland. Correct? The immigration officer asked as he crosschecked my passport photo with my face.

    Yup that’s me, I said. I chuckled to hopefully make things less awkward. That plan backfired. The officer shot me a strange look and continued checking my information. I was really nervous, that was my first time going to a new country and I had never even been on a plane.

    Expensive ticket. It says here that you’re on a college field trip. Vaccinations were given, luggage has been loaded, he paused to stamp my passport, and passport stamped. Walk through the metal gate and your plane is the third on your left. Enjoy your trip, he finished.

    The officer handed me my passport as I walked forward to the plane terminal. I walked through the tiny metal gate into a massive room. I was instantly submerged into a sea of rushing business men, traveling families, honeymooning couples and an infinite assortment of other kinds of people.

    After a solid 10 minutes of drowning in this sea I managed to swim and get a good look at my surroundings. The right wall was lined with a variety of shops. There was everything from disgusting attempts for restaurants to trinket stores and memorabilia pieces from Stanford. I go to college there at Stanford University, with a full scholarship.

    I was on a class trip with my professor Mr. Barkwood, my philosophy teacher. He thought for some reason the whole class has to try and find the Loch Ness Monster to be able to pass. I was just there for the free trip.

    I managed to squirm past all the people by going along the window on the left. Well, window isn’t the right word. The whole wall was glass so that you could view the runways from the benches placed right next to it. I slipped into the back of the line to board my plane. All my classmates were already on, I was late. Like always.

    When I made it to the front the stewardess said, Ticket please.

    Here, I said. I pulled my ticket out of my satchels front pocket and handed it to her. She scanned the ticket, tore off the stub, and handed it to me.

    You can throw that away if you like. Go ahead, she said pointing to the hallway behind her. I walked into the hall. The blue carpet was worn down and faded to the point where the dyes were almost gone. The walls were a white and very rough. They felt like the carpeting, old and worn down.

    I stepped into the plane. I had the very front seat right by the door. The attendant closed the door behind me. I sat down in the blue and white checkered chair and clasped my satchel in my lap. It held all my notes, reports, money, and my ticket home. I gripped it like it was my life. It basically was now. I didn’t even glance at the man next to me. He wore a black suit, read a newspaper, and had a look of hatred of all living beings glued to his face.

    The attendant grabbed the seat belt demonstration. I strapped myself in extra well. She continued with the safety demonstration. I checked for my life vest, noted the location of the rafts and doors out, and prepared to sit in a chair for the next seven hours.

    I heard the engines warm up and felt us begin to taxi to the runway. I closed my eyes, curled up in the fetal position and grabbed my satchel even tighter. The plane began to take off, and I had to bite the strap on my bag to keep from screaming my head off. I felt the pressure increase and increase and the plane tilt up into the air. Finally, the pressure from taking off lifted and I could move as we leveled out. The seat belt light turned off and I dashed to the bathroom to puke up my breakfast.

    As the distinct taste of half-digested eggs and bacon filled my mouth and the scent assaulted my nose. I started to think. I stared into the yellow paste with dots of brown bacon in it and thought to myself. Mr. Barkwood said that we were supposed to learn something on that trip. I learned that I am positively, absolutely, mortified of flying.

    Chapter 2

    After exactly seven hours twenty-three minutes and fifteen seconds, I was let off that death trap called a plane and back onto solid land. And yes, I did count every second. I checked to make sure my limbs were still attached to my torso and then proceeded to jump for joy at the fact I was alive.

    I was finally in Scotland. This airport looked a lot like the one back home, lots of business people and shops, except the massive glass wall had been replaced by more shops. I waltzed over to the luggage belt and grabbed my suitcase and began to walk away when a man called me.

    Oy! Lad! He said in a thick Scottish accent.

    I turned around expecting the Lucky Charms guy.

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