When I was twelve I used to write little poems and short stories about how would be my life if I were in a video game. I used to desing weapons, outfits and some characters.
One day an idea came to my mind; What would happen if I bring my notebook to the school?. At the begining it was not a good idea, but .... in an environment like that I would be able to create new characters and new stories.... welll everything was cool but I used to be a very distracted boy; during the break I was writing and my mates saw me so into it..... the curiosity assaulted them. They planned to stole it so their plan was distract me and the others will go for it. I was Sano about the situation and I never thought they would do such a thing; yes I used to trusht a lot in them..... how fool I was. The next day I did not notice about my missing notebook but the first moment I arrived to the class room a few mates started to laugh at me. I didn't catch why they were laughing at me and then a flash came to my mind telling me they read my stories; but it was impossible I had it in my backpack right?... I opened it but it was not there..... I blushed and they were still laughing, in that moment I asked. why this is happening to me? I was not doing nothing wrong with my stories, my eyes watered and the hatred gave me the strength to hit them all. So since then I obtained my stigma .... a warning for those who wanted to get rid of me.
