Welcome to Goria

The first day of high school was too, stereotypical. I walked around with my schedule in my hand wishing I had some sort of map to guide me places but I didn't. I asked teachers which way to turn and they all pointed me down twisted hallways unto my classes. Each teacher said the same exact thing, "This is where your life begins." So many of the children just sat there thinking, "this is just school; how can this be anything important?" but I sat in the back like a good boy and said nothing but just thought to myself about what the teachers said. They were right. Life began for everyone and for me especially during that year. My father became very sick that year which I will get into very soon. My first three months of school were step-by-step routined. I did the same exact boring thing every single night. Came home to mother asking me how my day was, my father reading the paper then asking the exact same question, I would eat dinner, do my homework, read a little bit if I had the time then go to bed. Three months into it there was a large fight in my family that changed everything. One solemn day my mother was playing her little piano quietly until her and I both heard a very loud yell upstairs. I ran upstairs but my mother stayed there playing her piano. The door to my parent's room was closed and locked and my father was yelling to himself in there.
 "What the fuck?! What the fuck is this?! How dare you! How dare both of you, you useless fucking beeings," he yelled. He kept going and going. My father did not curse very often but this time, his mouth would not stop what he called 'blaspheming'.

Up Until High School

Hello. I'd like to take a little bit of time and explain to you exactly why I am the way I am but that will stretch further than just my childhood. My childhood can be counted as a very stereotypical childhood which ironically so few children are able to enjoy. I grew up in a large blue house with a tire swing out in the front yard from which I constantly fell from. I've broken my arms, my legs, and so many other useless bones from that thing and never once did I get angry at the damn tire. Well so on, I was born to Bailey and Michael Stevens a while back and was their only child. I was a miracle child for them anyways since my mother's uterus was the equivalent to Hell fire while my father's sperm just couldn't propel themselves well enough. My mother told me a while back that when she knew that she was pregnant, she just couldn't believe it. I didn't think anything of it, of course, I wasn't there. Well I was born in a small town hospital and was named instantly. Charles. Nobody ever called me Charles, it was always Charlie and I've always like it that way. School girls and boys on the playground always loved to play hide'n'seek with ole 'Charlie'.

Everyday my mother would make breakfast for me and everyday she would drive me to school telling me to be a good little boy and to always stay quiet,
 "It's the quiet boys that rule the world remember that Charlie," she would tell me. Her crooked smile and tilted head made it seem like a joke to me at first until I later realized that she was absolutely correct. I'm getting ahead of myself. Well I did remain quiet through my years in elementary. I didn't have any friends besides my parents which for them was a blessing. I saw so many kids get beaten by their parents because the father or mother didn't "approve" of their new friend. I stood outside in the backyard once witnessing a whipping taking place in the next house over to a kid I sat next to at lunch. I didn't see him the next day, or the one after that. A few weeks went by then I didn't see any of that family ever again. I was never beaten. My father spanked me when I spilled milk, my mother yelled when I didn't make my bed but I never left home with a bruise on any part of my body. My childhood years up until high school were quite normal. When I found out what my mother did for a living is when my  mind began to be soiled. That and my father's job which was so much worse than hers but he was glorified in so many ways, hers was concidered tabboo by everyone yet his was Evil disguised as Good.

An Introduction

Hello. I would like to make sure that people understand that this blog is a FICTIONAL writing that I have started. Any sort of names that are used and any situations are strictly coinscidental. This is not real and some of the events I may be writing about are a bit immoral and strange but again I cannot stress it enough that this is 100% fiction. Thank you.
Denis