"When life gives you lemons make orange juice, and have them wondering how you did that."
"Thanks! But I wish it was the black one..."
Father Figure (working title)
The main character is a single father left to raise his infant daughter on his own. After trying to take his own life he is followed by a demonic presence that attacks his faith in god, and life. I am finding it a bit hard to get started (but that is always the hardest part for me when I write), so if anybody has any advice on how to approach this type of story please do not hesitate with your input.
When I was three years old my family, and I lived with my aunt, uncle, and my two cousins. We lived there for about nine months, but it was nine months longer than what I would have liked. One night I was having an incredibly hard time falling asleep. I felt as if someone was watching me. "Mommy?" I said as I looked around the dark room. I could barely make anything out. The room was quiet, and the air was cold. I could hear my older brother, Roger, breathing, but my eyes could not adjust to the darkness to see if he was still asleep in his bed across the room. That's when I saw him. Looking at me just at the foot of my bed as if he came from under. The only part he made visible was from the nose up. Eyes locked on his gaze. His face white as a sheet. Left eye red, and right eye just black. He started to rise, and I could see he was an old man. His entire face now visible, and as he stared a giant grin stretched across his face. "Stop it.....Roggie?" The moment I said that he let out a deep moan, and in an instant I screamed bloody murder, and try to back away from him. My brother jumped out of bed, and turned on the lights. My mother runs in trying to comfort me, but all I could do was cry in fear, and point to the edge of the bed. I saw him almost every night for those nine months, and my family experienced paranormal activity the entire time.
21 years later, and the image still haunts me to this day.
To be young is to live as many different people until you find your true self.
The men behind the curtain
Writing allows the many forms of my former self still have a voice. I always felt that I needed to leave my past behind. Never think about it. Don't let all that negativity of your life ever touch the positives. But it never goes away. I had no idea what to do with that energy. So rather than ignoring it I took that energy, and those people, and created different worlds for them to live in with the many positives. To be personified by different characters. To live in harmony with my positives, and never hurt them. The characters I write are part of me. They are my past. They are my present. They are my future. Writing is theraputic, and I would be in a much darker place without it.
The clock struck midnight. It was time to turn in for the night. Michael took off his shirt, and shorts only wearing his boxers. It was the third night, and so far so good, but he was reluctant to turn out the light. He lies there. Eyes adjusting to the darkness. Only enough light to make out the shapes of the furniture in the room. Michael stays awake in anticipation. Soon enough he grows tried, and feels as if it is safe to finally get some rest. Just as he closes his eyes he feels as if long fingers nails were scratching at his feet. Micael tries to jerk his foot under the blanket, but to his horror he could not move. He tries with all of his strength to move any part of his body, but all he could do was look around with his eyes. All of a sudden he feels the mattress sink as if someone were standing at the far corner of the bed. It steps closer. Each step getting heavier. Michael's heart beats faster, and faster as he watches the footsteps slowly creep closer. Michael feels pressure on his ankles. The entity was climbing over him. Then in an instance he no longer feels pressure. The room grew incredibly silent. He knew it was still here. He could feel it's presence looming. Michael realized he could finally move his torso, but not his legs. He sits up in a flash, but in that same flash is pushed back down to the bed. He felt the pressure of the entity holding him down on his shoulders. For the first time he could finally see it. But what he saw was utter darkness. He could no longer see anything else in the room, and all he can hear is groaning. He tries to fight it. He uses every bit of strength to try to sit back up, but he was being over powered. Michael starts praying in a last attempt of hope. His breath getting more, and more shallow. Michael knew it got him. Then in an instant Michael sits up with a massive gasp for breath. He looks around the room. The light of day had never looked so beautiful to him. "Was it a dream?" wether it were a dream, or not Michael was just happy to wake up again. He gets up, and heads to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror with horror. Bruise marks the shape of hands stained his shoulders. He hears a faint groan of someone hanging on to their life. Michael looks over his shoulder, and says "It found me."
I’ve been waiting for this moment
Oh my god look at you. I can't help, but look at you and cry. I hope you are strapped in because you are about to ride the most frightening time of your life. I know you're different. I know you have known that for a very long time. It's time to finally show the world who you truly are. That is just the beginning. I can't tell you much, and I won't tell you much. There are many lessons you are going to learn, and the road to learning will be incredibly dark. Even darker than the thoughts going through your head.
First, always believe in yourself. You are the only person in this world you can truly depend on, and you will be able to things that you thought you would never have the strength to do. Second, Don't EVER change for anyone. You are going to experience rejection from people you have trusted your entire life. Do not give them the power, and tell you that the way you are is an invalid existance. Third, never turn your back on your passions. Those are the things that make you a special individual. Ride those passions, and never let them go because one day you will grow to regret, and wish you could go back to what makes you happy. Trust me, it will be so hard to go back. Fourth, strength. There will come a time where you must face your demons. You will want to give up, but DO NOT give up. You are much stronger than you think. Fifth, and lastly always have a voice. Don't let others dictate the way you live your life, and tell you that your dreams are not possible because you deserve to be happy.
You can be anybody you want to be, and I know almost everything I am telling you goes against everything you have been taught. It's ok to always be different. Your parents raised you to be A, B, and C. But you be F. Be the person that you truly want to be, because I promise that people will love you even more for it, and you will be a much happier human being. I love you very much, and you may not love yourself but you will learn that lesson a little later. I truly hope you take what I have said, and remember it. Good luck, and don't worry. Everything is much better on this side if you stick to my words.
You are truly loved.
Cherish each, and every day. Take it slow, and don't forget to laugh.
Dance sets me free
Dancing sets me free. It makes me feel beautiful, and like someone that I wish I could be. It helped me find myself. It helped me stay in control of my body, and it all started with tapping my toe.
My first love was music. I will forever feel as if I owe music everything for shaping my life. As my face grew tired from playing my trumpet for hours a day, my heart would want to play for hours. I would tap my toe to keep the tempo, but I was really tapping a long with the rhythm. I felt inspired to move with the music, and the toe taps turned into ballet.
I started very late, and my family did not have the funds to send me to classes. But when I took introduction classes at my high school I felt like I was physically showing the person that was trapped in my head. It came naturally. It felt right. It felt as if no one could hurt me. I'm not the perfect dancer, and people could pick my form apart. But at the end of the day I feel at home when I am dancing. It sets people free, and it is a gift that I will always cherish.
R.I.P Fred Weasley
The death of one half of the Weasley twins will forever haunt me. To know such a humerous character was taken from his world, and his identical twin brother weighs heavy in my heart.
"Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face."