Is it bad of me to regret writing my first story? All because the writing had caused my mind to wander, either fantasy, dark, upsetting, and so much more. Right now I'm writers like mind has started to cause me pain. If I had so much pain from my cat and only true childhood friend had died. I couldn't stand the silence he used to fill with his uneven claws clicking on the ground or his yowling in the basement. A week after he past, I was desperate to fill it, even if it meant possibly betraying him and I had dreams of finding him alive. My last dream of him was of me begging forgiveness. He was my best friend. I never stuck with a group like other kids. I walked around the playground away from everyone and only acted out to seem like a normal kid. I was floating in a plain away from the pain I suffered at home from the man that was supposed to be my father. I took up writing to put my feelings down in fantasy stories of running from it all and fighting the darkness off. Now I see myself in the darkness, fighting, and waiting for something. Gaming has gotten boring, much like writing, and reading. Coloring and drawing has lost all or not most of my interest. Now my corrupted mind calls me names on instinct and in the night I either read, listen to music to lull myself to sleep, or stay awake because my mind went to darker thoughts. If I had acted so badly to my cat leaving me, then would I finally snap when my only sane anchor, my mom goes and I regret not being next to her more. But I'm affraid. I'm hurting. Screaming in my heart. Crying dirty, ugly rivers. Will I break?
