Writing for me started when I started writing songs. For some reason, writing songs was not my thing because it would end up as a story. I was always a scary cat and had stage fright. We never sign up for those talents shows or sing for other people, it was just behind closed doors.
I was in my 6th grade class and I would write while my teacher was giving a lecture, thats all I ever did. I never got in trouble, never had detention, never got a referral or sent to the office. I was too quiet and I stayed to myself. My family always knew that I never bother nobody or said anything. My family thought it was really something wrong with me. There was nothing wrong with me. I just couldn't say what I wanted to say because I was afraid of what the next person would say. The next person could have been my Mom, Dad, Grandmother, Aunts, Cousins, Uncles, So-call-friends, Teachers, Church Members, ANYBODY. So whenever my mind told me to talk, I ignored it. Instead of talking, I wrote it down.
Instead of writing songs, I wrote stories by hand, paper and pencil. I wrote screenplays or maybe you can called then scripts, either way, I wrote it to the best of my ability. I use to have a little notebook that was as small as my hands, and wrote was on my mind about people and how I felt about them. That went on for years and on thru high school. Writing as long as i did, writing all those stories since I was 10 years old, it really made me feel like i was a professional writer. Writing was all i wanted to do, there was nothing else. I’m happy writing no matter what I write about. Reading was also a big deal because reading lead me to learn more and write better.
What I really love to read was love stories, romance, drama, urban, erotica; all of the above. The more I read things that I liked, the more I learned and learned about becoming a real professional writer.
I loved writing because you can write down anything and it will be okay. I always felt like that. I always felt that as long as I wrote down how I was feeling, I felt better. Plus, its all about what you write down. Writing your own story makes you become something that you want to be, whether you write a story about a Bad Boy or a Bad Girl, Fallen in love with your soul-mate, Murdering someone that you hate; As long as you write it down, its like relieving pressure off you. I was always happy as long as I had my writing.
Then at the age of 14, I was molested by a family member who i trusted and who i thought believe in me. It went on thru my whole entire High School years. Ever since the first time it happen, I couldn't write anything down because i didn't know what to write down. My mind, body and spirit was gone. I would go to school with my head down because I felt like someone was looking thru me, and seeing what had happen to me. All I could hear was this family member's voice in my head telling me things i didn't want to hear. All I could see, in my mind, what he had done to me. I felt so bad. I felt hurt. I was completely out of it. But I didn't want anyone to know what happen to me. I kept this a secret for so long because i felt that I would get in trouble.
My molester put it in my head saying that I could have said no, but instead I allowed him too. Those words kept me in my own box and inside my own mind. So i kept it to myself. I felt ashamed. The worst part about it is that he paid me every single time that it happen because i was in school. I needed clothes and personal things that i needed, he knew that. At first, I thought it was a simple cleaning of his house and i get maybe $30 to $40. Then he ask me questions, personal questions that no one has ever came up to me about. I thought he was okay to actually ask me these questions because we was family, but at the same time, I did feel out of place. I was the only one in his home, alone with him; no one else. I felt too shaking up. What was even worst is that he was maybe in his 40s and i was only 14. When he asked me if i wanted to make a little extra cash, i thought it was extra cleaning, but it wasn't. I felt so trapped that i had no choice but to do what he said. I kept going with him every time he came to pick me up, because i didn't want my family to know. I would have been embarrassed and i felt i was going to get in trouble. I held in my peace because i didn't want any drama.
We all was family, blood cousins. My Mother, Grandmother, Aunt, and Uncle raised me. They all grew up with this guy. But all he did was lie to me, trick me, and trapped me. The molestation stopped because I stopped it. I didn't answer his calls. I didn't come around him when he came to see my family. When i seen that little maroon car outside, I told my family tell him I’m not here, I’m gone. My family didn't know why and I didn't want them to know.
My molester put it in my head saying that I could have said no, but instead I allowed him too. Those words kept me in my own box and inside my own mind. So i kept it to myself. I felt ashamed. The worst part about it is that he paid me every single time that it happen because i was in school. I needed clothes and personal things that i needed, he knew that. At first, I thought it was a simple cleaning of his house and i get maybe $30 to $40. Then he ask me questions, personal questions that no one has ever came up to me about. I thought he was okay to actually ask me these questions because we was family, but at the same time, I did feel out of place. I was the only one in his home, alone with him; no one else. I felt too shaking up. What was even worst is that he was maybe in his 40s and i was only 14. When he asked me if i wanted to make a little extra cash, i thought it was extra cleaning, but it wasn't. I felt so trapped that i had no choice but to do what he said. I kept going with him every time he came to pick me up, because i didn't want my family to know. I would have been embarrassed and i felt i was going to get in trouble. I held in my peace because i didn't want any drama.
We all was family, blood cousins. My Mother, Grandmother, Aunt, and Uncle raised me. They all grew up with this guy. But all he did was lie to me, trick me, and trapped me. The molestation stopped because I stopped it. I didn't answer his calls. I didn't come around him when he came to see my family. When i seen that little maroon car outside, I told my family tell him I’m not here, I’m gone. My family didn't know why and I didn't want them to know.
This was a life experience that i went thru and i didn't want this part of my life to ruin what i was. I stopped writing because I was molested and it changed my whole world. When i was 18 or 19 year old, I got so tired of this family member coming around and i wanted to give him a peace of my mind. So i didn't want to call him or hear his voice, so my best out was to write a letter. I wrote a letter to him. The letter i wrote was me asking him questions and i wanted answers. I was asking “Why would you do this to me?”, “Why couldn't you just let me clean and give me what i earn?”, “Why me of all people?”, “Why did you do what you did me?”. I also said I hope he goes to hell for what he did to me. I told him never come around me or my family again. I told him you did this to me since i was 14 and I was stupid to fall for his tricks, I wrote a lot. After that, I thought I sent the letter out to his house, but the letter came back and my Mom found out. I felt so humiliated and embarrassed and i thought I was I trouble. But of course, I wasn't.
Since that letter came back to the house, people wanted to know what happen, how it started, and how long it went on. I didn't say nothing and I didn't give any details. I felt like well that letter came back, so that's all you need to know. If I had told everything, It would have brought back terrible memories.
At the age 26, I still try to live my life. I work job after job. Work for paycheck after paycheck. This is the reason why I don’t trust men at all, because I feel like all men are just like him. Ever since i was 14, I have never been comfortable around any man at all. I never trusted any man. I always felt like relationships is bullshit with men. So i swore off men. But writing was something he couldn't take away from me. I write stories because my experiences is making me stronger and writing makes me open up and open my heart. When i tried to talk from my mouth, no one listens. But writing it down and telling my story to the world would make a difference. You can’t just write something down, and call it a story; you have to have experiences to make your story extraordinary.
Even though I have had some tough times in my life and it taunts me everyday, but its part of my life. When I think of my trails and tribulations, When I think about my fears; it motivates me to write something so special and make my inner fantasies come to life. It makes me believe there is true love, finding your soul-mate, real romance, and a great life. Even though these are things I write about in my stories, I know it can happen in real life. But until then, patience is the key.
