So...it's been a very, very long time. To be exact, three hundred forty-nine days, twelve hours, and fifty minutes—give or take a handful of minutes for the gap between the time in which I'm writing this and the time that it's actually posted.

I haven't updated any of my stories since June 28, 2017. Currently it is June 13, 2018, so I am just shy of not having updated anything for almost a year. So let me tell you all what happened.

Early June 2017, I was just at home, probably stressing out over my junior year exams and wondering how in the world I was going to pass AP Chemistry. I was part of my school marching band and drumline (as most of you know) and symphony band as well. My last day of school was in the beginning of June, I think, and I did relatively well on my exams, considering how stressed I was.

From June 22-July 4, 2017, I was on Hilton Head Island. I stayed in a timeshare and explored a place I thought I was too poor to be at anyway. I almost got a dog and I almost fell into a lake because my shoe got stuck on a rock. My stepfather worked as a repair man for the resort we (my mom, my sister, and I) stayed at, so we got a nice place and had a nice vacation.

Mid July (2017) I started bullet journaling, which is probably one of the best and worst decisions of my life. I'm free to do what I want with my planner, but then again, I'm free to do whatever I want. So combine a happy artist with a stressed artist and musician and...well, I think you may get the picture. Towards the end of July, I had to work with drumline and prepare for the upcoming marching band season, which made me really nervous even though I'd been doing it for two years prior. Fast-paced Latin music originally written for a drum set and transcribed to the quads/tenors wasn't the easiest thing to memorize, but we did it.

I also visited a very disorganized, very...perturbing college campus. Obviously I'm not going to say names out of privacy issues, but I know for a fact that a college where my tour guide abandoned me for some food and never came back is not the college I would be attending (and it still isn't).

August 2017: marching band season was right around the corner, and stress levels were high. I did a little back to school shopping, I finally worked on some old oil paintings hanging around my bedroom, I developed a profound love-hate relationship with a song called Malaguena, I met a very (very) large rabbit, rode a horse with no stirrups, and bought a violin. I also continued prepping for AP Biology that I would take that following September, which was...something in and of itself very nerve-wracking.

Late August (21-26): I still want to bleach my eyes at the sight of my old chemistry teacher in a teddy bear onesie, I came out to my friends, and I developed an even bigger love of rice pudding. I became a part of the studyblr community as well. This is also the month where my lungs decided to weaken even more. I was born three months early and had to stay in ICU for four weeks before I could go home.

September 2017: Senior year of high school...the absolute most stressful time of my life. I took four AP classes (Advanced Placement—they're basically college-level and above classes you take in high school, and then you take a huge test at the end that can give you enough college credits to get out of introductory classes in college and straight into the advanced stuff). I got new glasses (finally) and almost had to have eye surgery for detached/torn retinas (once again, because I was born early).

Mid September 2017: I took a class in school called Practical Art, where you make art that can be used everyday. It was here that I found my newfound love for ceramics and sculpting, and while most of the class did little pieces like flowers and graduation hats and plates, I created trees with faces, a giant ringed teapot, an eagle on a rock cliff, a totem pole, a Dia de los Muertos skull and roses, and other things.

October 2017: I've always loved SFX makeup, so (of course) for the zombie spirit day I tore the skin away from my hand so you could see all of the musculature and the tendons and bones and veins...I'm kidding; it was all made with rubber latex, eyeshadow, lipstick, cotton balls, and scar putty. I also discovered how much I hated AP Statistics...but I passed the class with an 87%, so I'm not complaining.

Skip to December, one of the worst months of my life. I hit an all time low. My depression came back full force and if it weren't for my friends, I wouldn't be here right now writing this message to you all. I still struggle with knowing that I'm worth the things I am, and that my absence would hurt a lot of people. I was called selfish and ignorant for doing the things that I did, and I still have scars (physically and mentally). But I'm getting through it. My mom got me an adorable cat plushie thing that's as soft as a cloud (not literally). My obsession with smoothie bowls also started here.

Senior year after winter break—so starting in January—was much better than the beginning of the year. I found out who my true friends were and how to disregard those who only exploited me for my talents or when they wanted something. My study habits improved and I was able to bring my grades up from the drop that happened. I changed my eating habits and lost weight so my own self-image would be improved.

Here comes May 2018, which was probably the busiest time of my life and the whole school year. Since I was a senior in high school, all of the expensive stuff made an appearance. My yearbook cost $70, the prom tickets were $65, the senior party tickets were $10, cap and gowns were about $50, and there were some other expenses as well, such as fines for overdue books and/or lost items. Then I graduated and now I'm "self-employed," in a way, as an independent contractor and sales representative. I don't go to college until the last week of August, either.

However, not everything was as cheery as it seemed. My mom and stepfather fought constantly, probably since mid- to late-November 2017 and up until now. There was constant arguing and shouting and slamming doors. I was new to all of this (re) marriage stuff, and so is my mom, because she hadn't been married since my biological father lost the battle to cancer. My stepfather was there but he wasn't—he was a kind of self-employed carpenter, repairman and electrician who found jobs wherever he could. He used to be employed, but I don't know if he quit or was fired or something like that. He spent his money recklessly on things ranging from junk food to car parts to virtual reality headsets that he used once or twice. My mom was stuck paying all of the bills—including his, by the way—and he just threw money around like it was air or something.

Then even more disaster hit. The water got shut off and we were without power for two days and had to sparingly open the fridge to get some water or milk for cereal or bread we ate by candlelight in our cluttered living room. We had to hang battery-powered lanterns and candles in little cups from nails and hooks in the wall and hope we didn't trip on the way to the bathroom. Then the phone bills were overdue and my mom's phone got shut off on the day we were supposed to leave for one of my college tours (which was almost an hour away), so we were late to the tour because she had to convince the phone company to let her pay the bill off a week later than normal.

My mom and dad continued to fight, and then the worst thing happened. I already knew that my stepfather had a jealousy issue with any other father figure I had in my life—such as my godfather, who'd been around since my mom wad pregnant with me—but that day he blew it out of proportion. He yelled at my mom—in front of all of my guests, too—that she'd brought her ex-boyfriend over (my godfather). She told him to get out and that she wanted him gone when we got home. Hours later, when we finally came home, my stepfather was still there, and then a few minutes later, he and my mom were arguing and the house got destroyed. We no longer have a printer or working television anymore, and the house is still a mess.

So now I'm dealing with even more emotional stress as my mom struggles to pay bills, deal with courthouses and stingy banks and racist police, while my sister and I live in fear that the man we thought was here to protect us made us feel scared. But now he's home again, I don't want to speak to him at all, and the tension is high at home.

And that's where I am now.

Despite my prolonged absence (now three hundred forty-nine days, twenty three hours, and forty-seven minutes), I still continued to work on my stories. The next chapter of Corpse Flower is just shy of being completed, and Fire and Ice has three new installments. Other stories such as Blood, Paradox, Mine, and Psychosis all have chapters that are currently works-in-progress.

I hope this served as a viable explanation for why I was gone for such an extended period of time. I hope you'll continue to stick with me as I return from my hiatus, and that you'll still follow and review the stories that have been sitting there, collecting digital piles of dust and cobwebs from being hidden away in the recesses of my doc manager here on FanFiction.

Sincerely, russianwinter013/Stark/MJ.