The Writer (an ohshc ff)

Prologue

Before we dive into my accounts, I should enlighten you on how I managed to weasel my way into intermingling with the elite, something i'll do it in the form of a light hearted introduction.

Hello, my name is Solomon Pressman. I am 17 years old, a rising senior in high school, and I was born in Jacksonville Florida, however, over the course of this story, I am Solomon Pressman, 16 years old, and a junior in high school, still born in Jacksonville Florida, of course.

If you haven't noticed, I enjoy writing, well, love it actually. I'm an aspiring author who's been in love with writing ever since I learned how to spell my own name, so infatuated with the beautiful art form, that when I was younger my grandfather could never seem to keep a pencil out of my hand. It doesn't matter the form, whether it be short poetry or long essays, letters and words are where I find my joy. Writing is an outlet, or an escapism. There are virtually no rules and you can present your work any way you like on all sorts of mediums, deeming you completely in control of your own composed realities. On paper, emotions are best expressed. There is no time limit or filtration like there is in spoken society, where your thoughts must always be instant and suited for your environment, but you have time to think, erase, then present a line even more beautiful than the first. Ironically, creative writing isn't my favorite form of literature, but I find it in it a lot of comfort, which is why my real life experiences are being presented in the form of a story, rather than just a book report. I feel it catches eyes and engages and is something more personal than a passage that one would have to read during standardized testing. What kind of author would I if I put my readers to sleep?

And, don't worry, this entire story won't just be obnoxious blocks of texts.

Anyway, i'm really good at what I do. I write articles for my town's paper, get paid to scribe resumes and my classmates' research papers (a side hustle, if you will), and won some local competitions, youth and adult.

My passion is the core foundation of this story, because it was what led me to enter the Youth International Writer's Competition, my gateway into the world of the pompous.

The competition's prompt was World Peace, something so disgustingly cliché, I almost refrained from even entering. Why would we waste our time by making our main focus something that is so unachievable? The idea of world peace is nothing short of a fever dream. It just can't become a reality, because humanity has fucked up so much that it won't even get a chance.

Now, reader, I know exactly what you're thinking. 'Oh, wow Solomon, we didn't expect you to be so cynical. By the tone of your writing, you sound like a soft spoken, kind hearted gentleman'.

Well, that's partially true. I am a man.

I run on nothing but satires and criticisms, leaving me with very few friends because of my everlasting pessimism—yes, i'm a pessimist, and to pretend and call myself a realist would just be pathetic. People don't tend to like me, and I don't want people to like me. You, reader, will most likely grow to hate me over the course of this story.

The world is full of negatives, no matter how you see it. Take the water-in-a-glass analogy, for example. An optimist would say the glass is half full, but why should you be happy with a half empty glass? Would half a glass of water be able to quench your thirst without leaving your mouth with that lingering dryness? Those people tell you to focus on the beauty of life, but how do you do so when there's still bad brewing in the shadows? The things that can truly hurt you, snatching you up as your gaze is distracted by the oh so, beautiful clouds, and dragging you into the depths of hell. All things good are bad. The sun is beautiful, but it will damage your eyes if you look too long or burn you if you get too close. Water is a basic necessity for every living thing, but it kills. Love is an amazing experience, but if the wrong hand gets ahold of it, it can be the weaponized and turned into worst encounter one has ever had in their entire damn life.