As a child, I loved to write stories. It was the one thing I was never taught. Back then, I would sneak out big novels from my dad's bookshelf, and I'll hide in my room and read it all. Someone might ask why was I sneaking? Well, the books weren't meant for kids, and my dad wanted me to be a surgeon, not someone with a pen and paper. But I slowly began to write too. I'd write short stories, and copy some words that I didn't even know their meaning from my dad's books. I found joy in doing that, and soon, I started to reduce the way I hung out with other kids. When my dad would travel or go to work, I'll spend hours reading his books, and I'd try to copy the pattern of the author. I'll also look up the meaning of those huge words with the bunch of dictionaries and encyclopedias that were in the house.
My dad never ceased to amaze me. I used to wonder why he'd have so many books when he wasn't even into them. He was in the sciences, and he wanted that too for his children, so why would he raise us around books?
One day, I successfully finished a book that I had written, and my dad's friend read it. He understood that I had potential, and he wanted to be a part of it, only that it didn't sit well with my dad.
"Jane has a rare talent. For a child of ten to beautifully write this series, it shouldn't be taken for granted." Uncle John had said to my dad after reading my first successful series, which I had titled "The gods are wise". It was a novel that I had written with a book and a pen, and I spent months writing it.
"She's not ready yet. Jane is a born cardiologist. Wait until you see her playing doctor with her friends. The book is merely a hobby, and we shouldn't stress it. With time, she'll grow out of it." My dad had replied him, and Uncle John couldn't change his mind.
Time passed and I got to highschool, and I met a fascinating teacher that showed interest in my talent. He asked if I could write poems based on my emotions, and I affirmed to that. Within a month, I gave him a good number of sad poems that I had written. He promised that he would publish it, and I'd be famous after that. On that promise, I worked harder to create more poems, but it turned out to be a fallacy, since he published my poems in his own name. I didn't even appear anywhere in the book, and to make it worse, it was mandatory for everyone to buy the poem as a literature student. He could've given me the book for free, but he insisted that I must buy it too. Words cannot express how devastated I was. I cried so much that I fell ill, and my dad had to come to the school. There was nothing the school authorities could do as I had no solid evidence to back my claims. My dad was furious, not at the man, but at me.
"I warned you. I told you to focus on sciences, but you were here wasting your time on poems. Did you ever stop to ask if he could be exploiting you?" He yelled at me, and I deserved it. I spent more days at the hospital before returning to school, and that was my first heartbreak. It didn't come from a relationship, but from betrayal.
I was so angry that I gave up writing till I graduated. Even after highschool, I focused on other things, and writing never crossed my mind. I still read books, and sometimes, I'd miss my former self, but I wasn't healed yet, so there was no writing for me. But that was until I made a writer friend. I was awed by his works, and I helped him a few times with good storylines.
"Jane, if you could be this creative, why not put it down into words?" He asked me one time.
"I used to want to be a writer in the past." I finally opened up to him.
"Don't let the past define your future." He advised.
Some days after that, I was introduced to hive, and my writing journey started. Soon after, I had real books that people paid to read on some platforms. I couldn't believe that after all these years, I still had it in me to be a writer.
"It must've been written in the stars that you'd be a writer. If I hadn't changed your mind, someone else would've done it too, because that's your story." My friend said to me.
Since then, I believed. Nothing ever happens out of mere luck or coincidence. The universe could just be working in different ways, but in the end, the written words in the stars would always prevail.
