The story of the first story that I have written,

I remember that once upon a time, when I was child, I thought about writing a story. Why? I don’t know. All what I remember is I wrote a story and it was about a very nice little boy and a very beautiful little girl. They loved each other very much, a love that only children know.  I was very happy about this love story, but I was very ashamed to an extent that I have hid the story from anybody that I would know.

However, one day, I found the story with my dad. I don’t know how did he found out, but what is important he was very angry when he read the story. He hit me once or twice, but not more than that. Then he left angry. Why? I still don’t know. At that time, I was very upset and torn the story into small pieces so no one will read the story. I threw the story in the street and forgot about it.

One hour ago, I found the first short story that my little son has written. I have read it, and then threw it on his face. I bit my son once or twice, but not more. I said to myself “little boy loves little girl? It is very disrespectful” and then I left very angry.

I expected that my son will throw the small pieces of his story in the street and will be very…very upset. Then he will forget the love.                   
 
 
 
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