My fantasy worlds were a way for me to cope with the loss of my mother and my best friend; she left and dragged my sister with her. After that, everything was hard. I was depressed and angry. Writing saved me. It gave me an alternative world to live in. It gave me a reason to be happy, to move on, to fight every urge I had to end it all. Writing, my light, my love, my savior. I owe it all to my pen, my paper, and my wild imagination.