Writing, I thank you

I had a hard time at school, I was bullied, verbally attacked and just out right pushed against my limits. I was easy to anger, was not able to fight back or even verbally respond. I only knew about three negative words, one being a swear word, but that did not help. I did not know how to deal with the abuse, the emotions building up and exploding into verbal outbursts that would land me in detention.

I was a foreigner in another land, an outsider. I did not fit in with anyone. I would surround myself with books, once I had a handle on reading. When I discovered the genre of fantasy and science fiction, my mind took that as a solace world, where I could vanish.

In times of bullying, I would regress into my own world to cope. This lasted years before I came to secondary school and a teacher showed me poetry and creative writing. She told me to write a story, write what I thought about, write about the worlds I vanished into.

I wrote my feelings into expressions and then into a free verse. I showed the teacher and she asked if I had found the poem, when I told her of the design she just told me to keep writing.

Since that day, any time I felt crushing against my own anxiety, any time my panic attacks got the better of mine, my stress relief was writing. So I have thought about posting all my work here as I go on.

Dreaming; The Island


As an Insomniac and Parasomniac, it is always a rarity for me to experience dreams and nightmares. In the past few years, whenever I did dream, these series of images would always be vivid, have references to popular culture I have watched, read or listened to. That is what dreams are essentially, as such are my nightmares, which play upon my guilt, weaknesses and fails and plagues my mind with paranoia and anxiety.

This weekend, I had worked long shifts and my body was exhausted, mentally and physically. I shall write the shortened and then the full dream, which after looking back upon it, has made me want to pursue it and write a chapter, or more towards a short story.

An individual awakens on a foreign land, finds themselves in a war between warring factions. Is thrown to each side, until he is brought to the skies and his memory returned. He is the instigator and the cause of his own loss of memories.

Now to write what truly happened.

Birds were chirping and the air was wet and warm. I opened my eyes and I found myself in a jungle. I wandered through the jungle, feeling very light headed. I stumbled through the final clearing and came across a facility. It was at least three floors high and surrounded by stone walls.

As soon as I stepped closer towards the wall, a horn started sounding and I was surrounded by young adults holding guns. They pointed them at me and shouted at me, demanding answers. I could barely answer and they bounded me and dragged me inside the stone walls.

I was thrown in a room and scanned by another person. She was wearing white and seemed to be a doctor. She and another individual, who was wearing red began chatting and I could hear snippets.

“He has no marker, he is neither one of ours, the Techs, Urbaners or Peaces”

“He must be another lost soul, give him the show” and then the red dressed individual left us alone. The doctor pointed at the wall, where a video began showing a video that seemed to explain where I was.

Welcome wandering soul to the Island. We are unsure exactly where it is located, but we are sure its on Earth as the constellations match up. This island is home to many hundreds men, women and children. They are of all different slices of life, nationalities, ages, gender and sexuality. But for as far as we can remember, there has always been battle between us and the other warring factions. We are the Children of Men, then there are the Tech Beasts, Urban Runners and PEACE.

There is battle to capture all the facilities and weapons of this land. A pro of living here is one cannot die from normal means or man made creations. But any individual can be stunned and taken captive, which in turn, turns their allegiance towards their captors.Strange concept you can understand, but we fight for who we are, always trying to stay within our factions and families. So you are now part of the Children of Men and must fight with all heart and soul and go get them.

The video ended and the lights came back on. The Doctor opened a door and two soldiers entered, holding uniform, a rifle of some form and an armour. All were thrust in my hands.

“Get changes and be ready for briefing in five,” the Doctor ordered and the three left me alone.

Only now did I look what I was wearing. Tattered trousers and a black vest. I noticed a tattoo on my wrist, a line of code it seemed. I undressed and placed the tattered clothing on the floor. The uniform as I slid it upon my body seemed to suction to my skin. I placed the armour over my body and slung the rifle across my shoulder. I walked to the door and opened it. The Doctor was waiting for me. She motioned me to follow her. We walked down two corridors before she let me into a briefing room. Maps on the walls, a centre display with a number of uniformed men and women standing around. They all turned to look at me.

“Welcome Recruit, Children of Men, meet Belios,” a commanding officer spoke. She pointed to my tattoo.

“Your name, seems to be tattooed on your hand.”

She returned to her soldiers and pointed to the map on the table before them.

“We have found the location of a Peace laboratory, they were experimenting on the nature of this island. Team A will be in charge of infiltrating the base and Team B will be on point, guarding and looking out for others. We do not know who else has this info,” she said. She called names and hurried five soldiers into a group, she called Team A. She then walked up to me and patted me on the shoulder.

“New recruit, you are on Team B, now go out there” she said and pushed me back through the door.