My son…my career…my wife…these were the three things that I deem to be the most important things in my current life that I would never give up on.

Way back when in my years as a High School student, I never really knew who or what I wanted to be. There were so little things that I was good at and there were just SO many pathways and options.

How could I ever know what path I would step down? Would I be just some average Joe serving hamburgers at the local Burger King or would I be someone recognizable?

Well to start…I was never really that popular or recognized in my school. I was never as smart, or as athletic as the other guys around me. The only thing I ever really enjoyed was writing. Every day, I'd wrote my thoughts in my journal hoping that one day I could say that "I made it."

I was even criticised highly for it by those "Bigshots". "Who the hell writes in Journals anymore?" I was basically called every kind of insult from the book. "Loser! Four eyes! Stupid! Pussy! Faggot!" You name it!

And yes, I did and I still wear glasses to this very day, thank you very much.

They kept taunting me, and nothing was being done! I couldn't fend for myself! The teacher couldn't really bother, and there was no bystanders or anything pitching in to help me. My parents weren't much help at all because they always tell me that "It's just a damn book…" Followed by "Why don't you this? Why don't you do that?"

The harassment at school continued until they finally took hold of my Journal, and stomped it in the ground in the football field. They stomped it until my passionate writing that was on those pages, were replaced with dirt. FILTHY, WET, dirt.

I was absolutely petrified. That Journal was the only thing that kept me going but that hope was crushed under the feet of a couple of inconsiderate pricks, who had no idea who the hell I was. It didn't matter, the book was destroyed, and my passion would slowly deteriorate. There was absolutely nothing left.

The only thing that really got better was, those bastards from before who had taunted me previously, didn't anymore. Instead, they just laid back and enjoyed their victory. I think it was the fear in my eyes, and the sadness that was being projected. They loved the fact that their mission was complete so they didn't have to do nothin', all they had to do was sit around me, and give me their cringe worthy smirks.

After that, things began to slow down, it's like my whole world stopped. A week later, sad yet after another day, while going to my locker for my regular routine of going home, I felt a tug against my shoulder. I remember turning, expecting it to be one of those bullies from before but no…It was a girl. And not just any girl, the vice president of the school's own Writer's Club, and was an immigrant to America at the time, Gina Fuji.

I just remember the fact that I was astonished that she picked up of what remained in my Journal, and thought my writing was astounding. She didn't have much of the original writing I once did but, she recovered and restored some pages (even though they were still delicate and roughly textured).

She said that she was really sorry for what happened to me, and she offered me a spot in her club, because the President requested my spot. I always thought my writing was never high quality writing, but this immediately gave me my spark back. So as I joined the Writer's Club, and I did everything they asked me to do, my work was getting more recognized on the school newspaper.

So ahem! I hung around her and she became one of my closest friends for the rest of my High School days. Much later in our final year, she actually confessed her love to me, and she said that she had a crush on me ever since we had our first meeting over my broken Journal. I actually accepted and confessed my love to her as well. The days that would stretch beyond our High School days would turn out to be the happiest of my life.

We stayed together right through our University studies, keeping our passion for writing alive, while the love for each continued to grow stronger. We eventually graduated, moved out, and worked together to pay for our own small apartment, and we managed to land writing jobs at a local news station, and want to know what the best part was? It was an international news station so that meant we could travel, and write on the things that we witness.

One thing led to another, while we were at dinner at my parents, I wanted to propose to her to be my wife but the funniest thing happened. She was going to propose to me! So it turned a little awkward, as it was uncommon for a man and a woman to be giving each other diamond rings at the same time.

We got married…It was now the two of us now: Johan and Gina Key.

Things began to slow down a little bit. We continued our writing jobs and enjoyed it for a couple of years together then it finally came down to a request. A request to have our child, now that it has been a couple years. She said that she was ready for this new responsibility to be taken upon ourselves.

Ten months down the road at the hospital, we had our child and we named him John, our baby boy. At that moment I thought to myself that 'This could be heaven or this could be hell.'

I found the answer to my question exactly one year later...