Witch Way

I remember a lot of things about how I used to feel, and how I used to be before I came here. This world is so magical, but sadly very few know of its existence. This is why I'm sharing my little story, to let everyone know you have nothing to fear. I know you feel alone in your world, I've been there too, but if you want to experience pure bliss and no longer live in fear, follow my words. You have so much more to offer and so much more to live for. The world you live in would never treat you or embrace you like you would be here.

My name is Alexis and this is my little story of how I found true happiness and how I found The Arcadia Island, the most tranquil most beautiful place you will even know.

My story began in your world, I came from a broken home and I grew up an angry teenager, but my anger was understandable due to what I had been through. I had nothing but a string of bad lunch from the age of twelve, and it seemed to only get worse as I got older. On my thirteenth birthday I was kidnapped from a park I used to go to when I needed to get away, this was only one of many things that happened to me, but I want you to know of my pain and misery, so you can better understand my in believable happiness I feel now. My kidnapping was all over the news, destroying my deportation for the rest of my life. No detail was left untouched. I was kidnapped, chained in this man's basement, starved and repeatedly raped by this horrible person, and everyone knew it. After a month of captivity, I fought back and made my daring escape, but I would carry this pain around with me for a very long time.

Because of what had happened, everyone at school treated me like an outcast, an undesirable human being. I knew I was considered tainted or taboo to others, but I still pursued dating. Of course this always ended in the same way, we would date for some time and when it came to sex, the guys would treat me like a fragile porcelain doll, afraid of me breaking in some way, physically or emotionally. This went on for years, until when í was eighteen and realized I was gay. At that point I had no friends and my only support system was my mom, which was dying from brain cancer at the time. Because of this I turned to drugs, hoping to take the edge off of my life. All nighters, blowing off school and one night stands with strangers, constantly trying to forget myself and my life, attempting to force a new me to the surface and barry the old one.

My reputation did change and everyone forget who I used to be, but so did my family. I had fallen into a new clique, one that enjoyed the darker things of life and were quite famous, at least with the police. I remember the first time I met this group of misfits, not because they had such a large impact on me, but because it was the day my mom died. I never got to tell her I loved her again and never got to say our goodbyes, because I was to busy getting high.

After I dropped outta school, my new found family and I got a place together. We split the bills and paid them by stealing from people and scaling stores. We had enough money for bills and enough to cover our drug problems, it was a dream for all of us. My bad luck continued as the years passed, but I continued to take the punches and feel nothing. Many of my large group of friends had died from drug overdoses and I had gone down an even darker path. One of the guys I had gotten close to was drugged out of his mind one night and in my drunken state and after many lines of coke, I screamed at him to take me home. We barely made it home that night and I only remember some of it, but what I do remember wasn't pleasant. We had arrived and I didn't like the crazed look in his eyes, so I tried to get out if the car in a rush. He threw himself on me and started kissing me, at the same time trying to undress me. I begged him to stop and tried to fight him off, but that just made him angry. He wrapped his hands around my neck and began to choke me. As I began to gasp for air I thought this could be it, and as he raped me I thought I deserved this, a fitting end to my miserable existence.

Thankfully i woke up the next morning, but apparently a very different person. The two weeks after that incident I have no recollection of, other than what people had told me after. I had learned later that I had fallen victim to a mental break down of sifts. Fallen, that word has a very different meaning to me now. During my break down I did many things I don't remember, disgusting horrid things I can't even remember doing, but I have newspaper clippings and my naked body plastered all over the internet to prove it. Yes people had taken advantage of my incoherent mindshare at the time, but that pain is long gone now, this beautiful place has sought to that.