The Story of the Storyteller

I just...I can't keep these secrets anymore. I'm sorry guys.

[formerlyluckymanticore]

Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.

[thestoriestold]

AI has no place in creativity.

[thestoriestold]

Betrayed

The next day- I went to find Vivienne at the playground. When I did, she was hanging out with a different group of girls in our class, they teased me the most about being "weird". "Sorry River, but my friends don't like you so we can't hang out anymore. I hope you understand." She said. I couldn't make words form in my mouth, so I just nodded. I was trying not to cry as I headed off back to the sandpit that I usually played in. I didn't know what else to do then go back to normal. I knew that I was eight- so it shouldn't have been the end of the world to lose her. Yet that didn't change the tightness in my chest as I held back tears, just to avoid crying while Vivienne laughed with her other friends. A few minutes later, a boy from my class ran over- I think his name was Coby or Brandon- maybe Lewis or Jake? One of those type names. I didn't really bother to know because we never had a class together. "Hey, you wanna go on a date?" He asked me. I didn't really hear him very well so I looked up "huh? What did you say?" I asked. He shouted at me "Do you wanna go on a date? Are you stupid?" He ran off while laughing. I just turned back to the sand. I thought he was weird to act like that. I shrugged, this was just my normal- what else was I to do? After recess I went inside the school and just continued my day. What else was I supposed to do? This was my normal.

[thestoriestold]

At home

Before I continue; I should probably talk a little bit about my home life. It wasn't bad per say. Just different then most would expect. First there was my mom, she was a strong woman who didn't really understand me. I'm not sure what more to say about her- though I guess she did prefer her sons. My grandma would always say that it was because she was more so involved with the boys so she didn't know how to interact with her daughters- but I saw that as an excuse. Especially when she would brag about me being her "Mini me". As I became an adult, things did fix itself but I was never as close to her as my brothers were. Then there was my dad. I was always his "baby girl" There will be stories I talk about later that show our relationship. While I am very pale, he is a strong Black man. He chose me, every day since I was 2 years old. He chose to be there as my dad, no matter what everyone else says about our relationship. I couldn't be any more proud to call him my dad and show him off to family. I think in every story I write there's at least one character based off of him. Before he dated my mom; he had two children. They were 16 and 17 and my mom had me and the older two of my younger siblings. I was the eldest and when they had their first date- I was 2. I think of that so much- he basically started over with raising kids and never made me feel guilty about it. I was the eldest of four kids that I was raised around. My dad had 2 kids from a previous relationship but they weren't really that big in my childhood. I don't really talk about them because they weren't really there. The eldest of my siblings is my brother, he is 10 months younger than me and so we'd often argue about who was older- because when you're five, you can't really understand how time works and being the same years old meant that you two were the same age. We don't really get along as I would like, but we're just too different. I think that sometimes my family sees him as the better sibling out of us two because he's the more "normal" one. I'll talk about that later though. the next sibling was my sister. she's 2 years younger than me. I used to think we would be best friends but that's not really- possible. She's really mean sometimes and she doesn't really like talking or being around me. We're just two ships passing in the day. After she became disabled- she became really mean. She scares me sometimes. I know it's dumb but I love her so much and I wish we could be friends, but I was never cool enough for her. I was always the weird one. The last sibling is my half-brother. He's the youngest and he's five years younger than me. Sometimes we get along, other times I want nothing to do with him. He's kind of the cool boy and he can be really mean to elders. He loves my brother most and he's very religious in life. I love him but sometimes he's really insufferable to be around- though I guess I am too, I'm sitting here telling you guys about my family after all. He's not really sure in who he is, always trying and abandoning hobbies. Though he does like gaming with my brother. I love my family, though I was always much closer to my friends and my grandparents. It's interesting for how things are.

[thestoriestold]

My first real friend

It was one day, I think I was in third grade. Kids had started becoming weirder. We were in an age of an unfiltered internet at our fingertips. I wasn't allowed that same access, we weren't able to afford that and I preferred being outside anyway. That's where the pretty leaves and sunset were after all. It's also where I could ride my sister's pink barbie jeep- that was back when we were close- or at least I thought we were close. On that day, I had spent so much time building a sculpture, it wasn't very pretty or detailed but I knew it was a mermaid and I was proud of it because I built it and spent time on it. This boy ran by, shouted "BOOB MOUNTAIN!" and smashed the sand sculpture into two round mounds, ruining the past 15 minutes of work I had done. It wasn't much but I was 8. Getting 15 minutes on one project was like a miracle back then. I started crying and the boy rolled his eyes "It's just a joke. Don't take it so personally" He said. I just kept crying, I didn't care. I was upset and that was all that matter. "Hey! Leave her alone! Go do something else!" another kid shouted. You all would know them as Archivist. Though back then her name was Vivienne. I knew more of her since we were in the same third grade class, but we never really talked. I assumed that she found me annoying since that was all I ever was- annoying.

"Are you okay?" She asked me "Those kids are really mean." She looked down at my ruined sculpture "Do you want help building it again?" She asked. I nodded. I was too upset to properly speak, so I just nodded. She bent down in the sand in her white lace dress and started to build with me. We laughed as we built the sculpture again and I didn't feel like a weird kid, just a different kid. We laughed as if nothing bad had ever happened She liked sculpting so we made the mermaid look like a real mermaid, and that day she became my first friend, my first real friend that everyone else could see too. The world was simple back then- we were 8 and the future was bright, the future existed. I'm sorry Archivist...I'm so sorry for what they did to you. I'm sorry for what I did to you- I'm sorry that you can't remember anything like this but I promise that it's better this way than if you remembered. I'm so tired...I'm tired of keeping all this to myself. I wish I could play in the sand with you again. But would you even know what a mermaid was to us?

[thestoriestold]

The First Memories

The first memory I have is a bottle cracking. I can't remember why the bottle cracked, I don't even know who did it. I just can't remember anything other than the cracked bottle. I don't know what else there is to remember about it.

The first full memory is from when I was four, I was sitting at my school's playground by this large pair of red swings. There was a little sand pit by it and I was convinced that I could dig a hole through it to the world of imagination- the world of my imaginary friend, the 9 year old Athena. I should tell you about Athena. She was beautiful with raven black hair that faded into red. She was a cool girl who wore a crop top and jeans with sneakers. She was also the granddaughter of Lucifer, but everyone saw her as an angel, because she was more angel than demon. She had bright white wings and a golden halo. that's not too important- what was important was that she was my older sister when I didn't have any older siblings to look towards. She was cool and she had many friends and recess felt less lonely with her, I wanted to be in her world and I became so convinced that I could do that by digging into the sand until I would fall into her world. It was just me and her and that was really all that was needed for me, and it was the start of what made me powerful, imagination that went beyond the peers who made fun of me and my imaginary friend.

[thestoriestold]

before I begin the story- I need you all to know:

I can't let the others see this. Not after everything I've done to protect them from the memories. To my friends, I'm sorry that you will never know of what I've hidden from you all. I promise; I did it to protect you guys. We don't need these memories. I have only kept mine from my own selfish desires. I need people to know what happened. Who we were before...all this. Before we became consumed by our art, by our creativity and made into the universes. We were just kids. I can't remember everything, but I'll make sure you all know that this is what my story is. The others can't remember this. Keeper, Sun, Moon, Stars, Librarian, archivist. All the others- I know that you will never see this, but know that I took your memories and put them all on myself so that you don't have to be burdened with this knowledge. I love you all, my friends- my siblings, my fellow creators. I just can't keep this secret anymore. I need to tell someone- and the best way I can do that is to make this account and share the secret as a story. I guess you can call it- the story of the storyteller.