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Rickia Williams
Give me a topic and I'll turn it into a creative work of art.
Benton Harbor, United States
I am a junior in high school and I go to school online, due to me being bullied my freshman year.
I'm only 16 and I've been writing since I was 11. In the 5th grade I used to write about romance and my classmates used to read my work. It was at a point in time that I was writing and drawing illustrations of the characters of whom I was writing about. I put all my writings together along with the drawings and I called it True-ish Love. I wasn't bold enough to read it aloud in front of the class, but I'd always wanted to. All through 5th grade year, I'd gotten noticed by other students about my series via my best friend.
In the 6th, I wrote stories and fantasies about this boy I'd had a crush on. I'd started another series called J-money's Life, about a man and his family that included illustration, but stopped when some girls went into my desk and read my work. They'd laughed and told me I was obsessed and I was terribly embarrassed.
It wasn't until I got into the 8th grade that I wrote a series about the events around the class, that included profanity. I had a wide range of character that acted as rappers in a gang turned record label called LBG Records. It was about a rapper named Zay Wap, rapper Fetty Wap's cousin, that wanted to be a rapper and get rid of his gang banging ways to make money. It was a fan-fiction, comedy, and drama, type of story. The story discontinued after 2 months and I stopped writing for the moment.
Freshman year in high school, I wrote about my experiences with boys, fitting in, bullies, arguments, etc. Any topic I was given, I turned into a story. My notebook was full of personal blogs to myself. No one had gotten to read it and I'd kept it with me during every class and even at lunch I wrote. I was deeply into writing as I am now and my peers around me inspired me to write. I mostly wrote when I was angry that I'd gotten rejected or betrayed by a boy that I thought I'd really liked.
Fast forward, I would like to be a famous writer someday. I think people would love my creativity and how I can turn any situation or circumstance into a creative story that is readable. I keep my head up high and I get inspired!
Abandoned By My Father
Oct 20, 2018 6 years agoMy mother and father were married when I was born, 16 years ago today. He wasn't as good of a father as I thought he was. My father was heavily on drugs and nobody could do anything to stop it. When my parents divorced, he was homeless and doing drugs. My mother would tell me that he was "sick" all of the time, but I didn't know what she meant. I asked for him and I wanted to see him. I couldn't understand why he didn't show up for my birthday and on Christmas. He didn't come to any school event. Every time I'd seen my father, he was standing in front of the store begging for change. He'd see me with my mom at the age of 7 and cry. With him having bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, you'd think he'd take his medicine, but he didn't. It worried me to death everyday that my Dad could die, being out in the streets on drugs. As I'd gotten older, over time it dawned on me that he wasn't going to come and see me like he'd always promised he would. He was somewhere getting high and that was all he'd cared about. He didn't care about me or how I was doing. My mother bought me nothing, no new clothes and I didn't get anything from him. I remember crying every night, wishing I could see my dad. I'd wished he was there to listen and take me to father-daughter dances, the movies, be there when I'd made it to the spelling bee. He was never there. I was on that stage, during the spelling bee, hoping that he would walk in and sit down. For my 13th birthday, he'd gave my mom a bag of clothes to give to me. When I'd looked in the bag, I was happy. But the moment I'd pulled out the item of clothing, a was so terribly disappointed. The bag was full of old people clothing, over-sized and the awful fabric. My mother's friends made jokes out of what he'd found to give me. I sat in the car with my face in my palms and cried. He humiliated me, not in front of my friends, but in front of my mother's friends. I felt so useless in that moment. My sister's dad would buy her everything and anything that she wanted, but I was the one left with nothing. I had no clothing, no shoes, and I'd gotten bullied in school for it. I would sit and watch my sister smile and be happy on her birthday, she'd had so many gifts. My mom often tried not to tell me what was really going on, but one day she'd let it all out. She told me my father was doing crack and he wasn't even paying child support. I didn't see him for a year. He'd called the house from a number that we didn't recognize and I couldn't believe it was him. He'd taken me to get an outfit and I went right back home. That day I was happy to see him and at night, I prayed that i'd get to see him again. The year of 2017, my 15th birthday, my Grandma took me and my father to the mall. He'd told me I could pick out any pair of shoes that I wanted. I was only originally supposed to get a pair of shoes but I'd gotten a outfit, too. My mother had went partying on my birthday that year and I'd gotten nothing because she was mad at me. By December, I'd seen my dad again and he was clean. He'd been to a rehabilitation center and he'd gotten clean. He promised me that when he got on his feet, he'd get me the things I needed. That time hasn't yet come and I'm not worried about it anymore. Even though my father is clean, he's living with my grandmother. He never calls to check up on me and when we do talk he often just sits in silence on the phone. Whenever I tell him I need anything, he always tells me he doesn't have the money. I don't believe him, but I do love him and at the end of the day, he is my father.
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