Comic Books Come to Life

CC No 22 Pathfinder
CC No 22 Pathfinder (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There are times in my life
When I want to escape
And hide in my comic books.

Why do I want to escape?

The world is a cruel place
For those who are different
No one really cares if you are alive
Yet, they force you to live
purely for their own entertainment.

If only my comic books were to come to life,
Then I would be free
Because unlike the real world,
The characters in the comic books don’t care if you’re different.

Why shouldn’t this happen?

I think that it would be better for everyone
That those who are different
Can use the power to make others see
That they’re not as different as everyone else thinks.

Until the day comes
When comic books come to life
I’ll just hide away
And pretend that the world doesn’t exist.

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The Deferred Dream

English: Dr. Martin Luther King giving his &qu...
English: Dr. Martin Luther King giving his “I Have a Dream” speech during the March on Washington in Washington, D.C., on 28 August 1963. Español: Dr. Martin Luther King dando su discurso “Yo tengo un sueño” durante la Marcha sobre Washington por el trabajo y la libertad en Washington, D.C., 28 de agosto de 1963. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She knew that Dr. King had a dream that we would one day live as equals, but that was only half the story.

She had been told that her dreams of being a famous actress were nothing, that no one would accept her because of her mental disabilities. Her foster mother forbade her to even think about trying to escape from her disabilities and better herself. It just wasn’t going to happen, not on her watch.

But every time that the girl felt nothing but despair and hopelessness, she tried to think about that one dream, the dream of equality, love, and respect. Those were the things that Dr. King fought for, the things that he wanted for America. He had lived during a time where an entire ethnicity was denied their rights simply because of the color of their skin. He believed that that was wrong and he sought to change that.

But what of those who were mentally disabled and could not speak for themselves, she wondered. Who was going to speak for them? Who was going to tell the country that mentally disabled people had rights? Who was going to rise up and demand that all Americans, disabled or not, should be able to live their lives without limitations due to their abilities or lack of abilities? But as long as there was the social stigma against mentally disabled people, this dream of hers was never going to happen.

Every year, the girl watched as those who have brown skin were being able to succeed at obtaining their life goals, but those with mental disabilities were being pushed further back into the margins of society. She still couldn’t believe that no one wanted to give a voice to those people. She still couldn’t believe that no one wanted to give those people a chance.

Someone had to speak out. Someone had to tell the American people “no” and that mentally disabled people had rights. The America of her time was no longer black and white; it was a matter of abilities and such.

The girl stood up and said, “Enough is enough! If no one is going to give them a voice, then I shall give them mine. Dr. King was right to declare his vision to America, so why can’t I? I dream that there will come a day where no one will be judged or denied their rights because of their mental disabilities. There will be a day where instead of being locked away in dark rooms and hidden from the world in shame, mentally disabled people will be allowed to not only live in society, but to be productive members of society. There will be a day where the word “retarded” will no longer be allowed to be uttered, and those who use that word will be shamed. There will be a day where children will no longer be teased by the other children because of their mental disabilities. But that day won’t happen unless a mentally disabled person steps outside the locked room and speaks out.”

The girl packed her things and slipped out the door while no one was looking. She was going to change the way things were. No one was going to stop her, deny her, or tell her that her dream was nothing. She was going to have her say, whether American society wanted her to or not.

Within a few weeks, 9-year-old Andrea Muty was chosen to be in a movie that depicted a woman’s fight for freedom after being imprisoned in a mental hospital. That movie soon changed how people thought about mentally disabled people, and most people were very upset about how the mentally disabled were depicted in television and movies. Other people thought that Andrea was wrong to push her dreams of inclusion of mentally disabled people onto society, and some of them urged her to “go back into the padded cell and never come out again“.

But as for Andrea, she knew that she had a long way to go before her true vision was to be realized. And she wouldn’t have had the courage to do just that had it not been for one man who spoke about equality.

My Imaginary Friends ruined my life

I am sitting on the floor in a soft room. There are no windows and the door is hidden by pillows. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I do know that that what I have done has ruined whatever life I have left.

I remember my first imaginary friend; her name was Jane. I first made her up while I was in the first grade. The other kids made fun of me because of my perceived mental disabilities and none of them wanted to play with me. But Jane was there for me,, and for that, I am grateful.

I recall Gus and Joe, who joined Jane when I was in the fourth grade. By that time, everyone else was into video games, movies, and whatnot. Nobody wanted to hang out with the “retard“, as I was referred to as. Rarely has anyone called me by my actual name. Gus, Joe, and Jane were my only friends.

I made up Don, Luke, and Leah when I was in the sixth grade. I found myself fighting with my parents over my imaginary friends; my mother was angry with me for shutting out other kids and my father tried and failed to get me into various sports teams and clubs. If only they knew the truth about how people were treating me at school, they would understand why I had imaginary friends. I tried to tell them what was going on at school, but they refused to listen to me. They told me many times to give up my imaginary friends or else there would come a day when they would leave me to my fate.

Also, my parents told me that if they found out that I was still talking to my imaginary friends, they would send me to a mental hospital somewhere and I would never be allowed to go home.

But how could they do this to me? I can’t give up my imaginary friends. They had always been there for me when everyone else had rejected me. They helped me celebrate birthdays and Christmases. They listened to my problems and advised me to ignore the other students and get good grades. But my parents were upset because I had shut them out of my life, but they chose to force me to be with people who didn’t like me or ignored my complaints about me being bullied. My imaginary friends were the only friends that really cared about me.

But here’s where things went wrong for me.

My little brother began to ignore me and tell his friends about his “weirdo” sibling. My sister refused to even be in the same room as me. Even my own relatives went out of their way to avoid me. But I had no problem with that, because my imaginary friends were there to comfort me and make my life better.

One day, when I was 15 years old, some person who clearly didn’t like me cornered me in the halls of the high school and began beating me up. No one helped me or defended me; they all laughed and cheered, because according to them, the “retard” was getting what they deserved.

When it was all over, the doctors said that because of the beating, I was just too brain-damaged to function as a citizen of society. My parents, having had warned me repeatedly to give up my imaginary friends and hang out with real people, just gave up on me. I was eventually committed to a mental hospital somewhere outside of town. No one cried for me, not when they rejected me and denied me the basic right to live in society. I believe that they are throwing the mother of all parties somewhere.

So anyway, that’s the sad story of my life, a life that is filled with imaginary friends and a future where I must stay in a room full of pillows, never to see the world again. And if you are reading this story right now and you’re still talking to your imaginary friends, please stop immediately and get some help for your problems. You don’t want to end up like me, a person who made up some imaginary friends just to cope with the harshness of school life and paid for it with my own life.

This story is now finished.

Harry Moffer & the Dumbest Story Ever

Once again, we revisit the magical world of… hey, wait a minute! This isn’t the new Harry Potter story!

Far from it.

Instead, we have the rather boring story about a loser kid who goes to some pathetic school with his two lame friends and has a series of pointless adventures.

I guess this just goes to show you that Harry Potter really does suck.

To be continued…

And Now For Some Creepypasta…

The Vampires of Venice
The Vampires of Venice (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Plot: One night, a group of students investigate a restaurant haunted by a vampire.

That night was when my life changed forever.

And not for good.

As you can see, my idiotic friends had this very stupid idea to go inside that restaurant. The restaurant, which was once successful during the 1970’s, had since fallen into a disgraceful decline. Many people claimed that a vampire had invaded the restaurant and killed most of the customers who dined there. Of course they couldn’t prove anything, since the dead bodies were actually mannequins, but there was a general opinion that the restaurant was haunted by a vampire.

But we just HAD to go into the place!

I saw that there were so many cobwebs that it could pass for a haunted house. But luckily for us, there were no spiders present. The place was untouched, as if time itself didn’t affect it. I swore that I saw the vampire walking around, as it was sunset when my friends and I went into the restaurant and none of us thought to bring flashlights.

I wanted to tell the others to ruin, to get out of there, but my tongue froze in my mouth. I had taken years of abuse for being a “tattletale” and a “chicken“. My parents were ashamed of me; they told me repeatedly that they didn’t raise me to get other kids in trouble.

But if I had just said something, all of this could have been avoided.

Anyway, I saw that not only was there no vampire in the restaurant, there was some creepy person there, and he was angry that we had invaded his hiding space. We all began to scatter; two of my friends made it out safely, but three of us did not. My other friends tried to hide in a booth, but they were quickly covered up in cobwebs.

I was the only one left.

I turned to escape, but the person caught me. I didn’t know if the person was a man or a woman. But what happened next will make you shiver.

The person captured me and I found myself being dragged away from the door and into a dark room full of cobwebs and no windows. I knew that had I said something, none of us would be in this situation.

So that’s the story. And if you want to know what happened to the other two children who escaped from the restaurant, don’t bother.

As for me and my friends, no one would ever see us again

The end.