I was fourteen when things started to go wrong.
No, that a lie. It was earlier. I'm not sure how early then. Probably sometime after my first girlfriend at the age of twelve.
I had been a child actor, though not a big one. I had chosen against going the way of easy fame in the children's categories. The mainstream children's shows promised large successes early on, but the quality of those children as adults was questionable at best. Perhaps it is unusual to say that I though of such things at the time, though I was a youth of considerable intellect I can honestly say that I hadn't put much thought into the decision.
My parents were that of higher prestige. An aspiring actor and model, they were in many ways larger than life. That isn't to say that they were unreachable or distant, no. I have many memories of us spending time together in the forests of the smoky mountains and the beaches of the coast. Rather, they were, should I say, unmeasurable, and for a time that in itself was what compelled me. Proud did not even begin to describe how I felt when I approached them.
But, as they tend to, children grow old. My youth passed in but a blink of the eye, and my teenage years were far more perilous. What might have been an easy ride into game by other people's gaze was nothing but steep step falls and perilous jumps from one job to another. Those that knew me urged my patience. They sought, not to console me, but to mold me, to create the actor that they knew I could be.
Still, I am a human, not clay. I did not wish to be molded, I was stuck in the ground, me feet and ideals firmly rooted in what I thought was correct. My stubbornness turned to petulance, my petulance to anger, and soon it became all that I knew. It wasn't something that was a part of me, rather it was me.
It is quite easy to acquire certain substances as a young actor, alarmingly so, and as I delved deeper and deeper into myself I found that I was losing myself to this new persona. Gone was the child who wanted to simply be. I would not be consoled, even when people stopped their disparaging words towards me. I knew, even then, that it was not due to talent, but rather fear and discontent. I was angry at them, angry at the world, and angry at myself.
At the time I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I refused to see others. My only saving grace was an older boy, a young man really. He, unlike myself, was well liked in our circles. He had an easy going, likable air that I immediately detested. Still, somehow he broke through the walls I had erected between myself and the rest of the world. He was simply- too good for this world.
In the end that was his downfall, as was I. He tried to save me from my darkness, and succeeded, though I'd rather he hadn't. He left behind a sister, his only family, just to save me.
I wasn't worth it. I'm still not.
Still, there is no going back. What's done is done. He has sentenced me to live with the consequence of his actions. His punishment is that I may live while he cannot.
I think it is fitting. I will suffer. That is the only thing I can do.
So I swear I'm still working on my other projects, but I wrote this while I was at work on my phone and found it oddly compelling.
For a bit of perspective, this is supposed to be written not long after Ren is taken under Lory's wing, as a personal project.
It is a bit of a lead in to a project I'm working on that I may or may not post.
