Lately I’ve been thinking about this app I used to write stories on in middle school. At the time I was really into a group called Mindless Behavior, and other young black artists who popular at this time but mostly them, who had a really large following on Instagram. Their fans would make fan pages in instagram and write fan fiction on an app called WattPad. They would post the cover pages on Instagram and tells the followers from the fan page to read it and I always did. I loved Mindless Behavior so much I would watch or read anything pertaining to them. Not always, but the stories would often go like this: a fan goes to a concert, one of the members of the group would notice them in the audience and tell them to meet them backstage after the concert is over. They would instantly fall in love, get into a relationship, and it would end in heartbreak because he was always on the move and cheat or didn’t have enough time for her. Although these stories had very similar plots, I was always interested and didn’t want to read anything else. My mother would urge me to read actual books with correct grammar but I didn’t care. In my mind, these books were so much better than anything sold at Barnes and Noble. I tried to write my own but quickly realized I wasn’t good at it. The story surprisingly wasn’t a Mindless Behavior story, but a horror story I wrote after my 13th birthday. I was in eighth grade and for my birthday I went to haunted forest and had a sleepover at a hotel. My friend and I were too scared to go along the path, even though we had already paid for tickets, so we stayed with my parents the whole time. For some reason, this horror theme stayed with me and I wrote a story on WattPad to makeup for missing out. I titled the story “thehaunted.” (childish, I know) and it was about a girl named Taylor and her friends who six friends who go out for her birthday and get the idea to go to a haunted house. Once they get there they realize they’re going missing and getting killed one by one. I won’t go into detail about the plot because it was that bad. It was written in the form of a script instead of a novel, probably because I though it was easier to do it that way when I was 13. I realized that I wasn’t meant to be a writer when I reread the story a couple months later and couldn’t even make it through the first chapter which was only about 10 lines. Although the story is some of my worst work, I look back at it and gives me a nostalgic feeling. 13 was probably on of the most fun years of my childhood and I honestly wish I could go back. To not have any responsibility or care about anything but having fun would be a dream to relive.