A long time ago...I became a writer

TLDR at bottom of page

Today I was looking over some of my older writings and watching Clannad/Clannad afterstory clips on youtube (which were a big inspiration to several things I wrote) and just thinking of all that has gone on in my time writing.

Lets see...it was...8 years ago that I first started writing. It all started with my solitary confinement and depression. Ever since the age of six, when my father was arrested, I've suffered greatly from depression and always put on a tough face to keep my siblings happy. I hid my pain away, bottled it up and let it build up and only added more on to it when defending my siblings from the other terrors that came into our lives.

But thats getting a bit ahead of myself. When I was 13 I was living in Florida with my mother and her friend and her friends boyfriend. Since my mother constantly worked we were 'babysat' by her friend Tracy. While Tracy was pretty cool and taught me several thousand life lessons that I couldn't live without, she had a bit of a strict streak when it came to punishments. I came home with a C+ on my report card and I was grounded for it. The punishment was that I would have No TV, No Video Games, No Social Interaction outside of School, Early Bedtime, A daily beating, and have to perform all of the chores in the house including the ones my siblings would normally have to do.

I thought if I brought my grade up then the punishment would end. So I overworked myself until I brought the C up to a B+. I was yelled at for not having all A's, beaten, and sent to my room. At this point I stopped caring. The subject was my weakest, one I barely understood (Advanced Biology for those wondering) and there was no way I could bring it up to an A. So I gave up. I sulked and let my grades fall, i stopped trying. What was the point after all? Even if I did bring up my grades I was only going to get yelled at and beat. There was no incentive to try after failing when I thought I had succeeded.

During my punishment, my only comfort was my crappy little radio alarmclock and my books. But eventually i ran out of books and had nothing but the walls of my tiny room to stare at for hours on end when I wasn't doing chores or being beaten and yelled at. Slowly i started to lose my grip on my sanity. It just so happened at this time that my English teacher asked us to start writing short stories. It had to have something to do with Halloween. So I write a Goosebumps-like horror story about some rickety haunted house. The story was suppose to be one page long, but mine ended up taking up 3 sheets of paper, front and back. My teacher was amazed at the output and apparently the quality of the story.

She had seemed to notice how quiet and distant I had been from everyone else. She didn't know I was being beaten or how I was being punished since I don't bruise easy. But she seemed to know that something was wrong in my life. So she gave me a large binder full of paper and told me to let my heart pour on to the pages.

So, after about a year of confinement, of staring at a blank wall and letting my sanity drip away, I started writing. Whenever I read a book, or listened to a song or started to write, i was able to escape the harsh reality of my life and into the world painted by words. Within that world I was able to hold on to hope, i was able to cling to sanity, i was able to smile. I carried that binder with me everywhere I went, always writing something, always having another idea. My teachers never interrupted me while I was writing. I think they noticed that it made me more of a sociable person. People were always asking me about the binder, what was hidden away in it, what was going on within the worlds I had created. So I became social again because of writing.

Two years I had been trapped in the same punishment, and at that time my mother had come to realize what had been going on and Tracy was removed from our lives and my punishment was lifted. It was strange being able to go out and play, to watch tv or spend time with people outside of school. it was something I wasn't used to and so i hid within my binder once more, using it to slowly adjust my life back to normal.

I don't write in the binder anymore...but i still have it, and within it, the first two stories I ever wrote. Each story has a character in it that I spent the better of six years crafting worlds around them. The first being Talius, the second, is a name you might recognize. Saro. The name I carry around on this site and its little ending bit 'ofdemons' has a huge meaning to me that I don't think anyone could ever understand.

Saro was a human, who found a gateway to another world, but later realizes he had created it himself in order to escape a bunch of thugs chasing him. With this new power he traveled from his world to the new world he had discovered in which Talius lived. The two and their friends go on several adventures, not all of them happy, but all of them being memories important to both.

Anyway, I still hold those memories, the good and the bad, close to my heart. Because without the bad things that happened, I wouldn't have the good things that happened.

Speaking of first stories...I've decided to continue my very first series I ever started on this site. It was left on a rather heavy unanswered ending and those people who first believed in me on this site deserve to know what happens next.

Thank you so much for being on this journey with me everyone, every favorite, every comment, every follow, always makes me smile and makes every little thing worth it.

TLDR
I've been through a lotta shit
You guys are awesome for being there for me!
I'm continuing the Kingdom hearts Crossover series!