[1599] My first ever Story

This is my first ever story, I was bored and thought i could try out something new and creative, my story is definitely not done, even tho I already have an end in my head.

I do know about the crit for a crit, but honestly, I just want to know what writing is about, if it’s good or bad and where I’m at.

FYI, I’m not and English speaker, it’s not checked for spelling mistakes nor is it cleaned up.

So here’s my story, that doesn’t have a name yet—-

This is me, you wondering probably who I am or why this is relevant, well it’s a question I honestly can’t answer and to be fair, I don’t even think my parents or people close to me would be able to. I was a simple boy, mostly, at times strange, but let’s face it, what child isn’t, especially a boy in the starting blocks of his puberty paired with some confusion about who or what he is, and where his journey will lead him in his life. Either way, let’s rewind a bit, around the time some people might find cute, around that time you began using this wobbly, flimsy, meatsausages below your belly, to be more exact, your legs, yes, exactly those things. I was always a curious child, and if I was a cat, probably dead, isn’t that the saying? Curiosity kills the…? Anyways, you understand. So there was me, that little unbothered, completly ignorant about possible dangers thing, walking and discovering every little thing in this world. We had a big garden, some lush forest and beautiful oak trees covering the borders of my parents perfectly mowed and cared for grass, and me, the child of some busy high valued people, I think you would call them rich, probably to rich because they never found time to actually care about anything that wasn’t remotely connected to business, decided the garden, the beautiful grass, cut to perfection, where most people would play golf on, in my larva state beeing to go regularly on my personal adventures, in this said area, yes the forest, not the grass.. only to be fetched again from the personal that was, how im still not quite sure to this day, the role of my parents? It seemed that way atleast. So you see, self preservation was never my thing, and it never concerned me, even to this day. You probably see where this is going, all this lead to exactly what you think, a lot of trouble, school was for that boy, that’s me if you forgot, never an easy task, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t that „slow“ kid, everybody probably had in school. I was a pretty bright mind and mostly bored of the endless tests and utterly boring classes I had to endure. Who wouldn’t, private schools are really not that cool how everybody thinks they are, snobby little, excuse me for the words, but I do think it fits the description perfectly, shit kids, that are well to aware and care way to much about daddy’s money and status, pretty sure everybody knows these dickheads without ever stepping a foot inside those schools. So yes, that was my life, torn apart between boredom and annoying classmates that measure their dicks and achievements, however you wanna have any of this in your teenage years, with each other. So there was me, as earlier explained, confused on where life will lead me, it would’ve been a nobrainer for a lot of people just to follow the family’s business and call it a day, not me, sitting in skyscrapers looking at a stupid monitor, talking to some people on the phones and meetings and probably getting frustrated with Laura the secretary or whatever her dumb name might be. I wanted more in this world, no ordinary life, something, just like my childhood, packed with careless, probably self harming adventures, well ordinary my life never was, but I think you’ll catch the drift. After the awful years slowly passing by, I kinda got a hang of what I wanted for myself, history was always interesting for me, buried secrets, hidden treasures, no, this is not some of those story’s and movies - part 100, we’ve all know and some love already. This isn’t the Hollywood magic or happy ends you’ve all known, the Michael Bay hand twitching before the outro type of stuff, this is my story, my life’s story is a cluster fuck out of everything you’ll imagine, highs and lows, ups and downs, shapes and rectangle’s, so probably nothing much your imagination can come up with, hence the reason you’re still listening to me and my story. Everything began to really kick off after my graduation, historian-archeologist, what a good awful name this is, the fancy „interdisciplinary“ background guy - John. Yes I know, complain to my parents about the name they choose for me, never liked it either, but hey, what can you do about it… well, in todays time there’s a lot possibilitys about identity I guess.. lets just skip that nonsense for the better, but as I said, complain to them, let’s continue. So either way, John, the Indiana Jones knock off, how some of you might think, and probably a bit narcissistic, counting in the fact I’m having a whole ass Monolog about myself for the next few hours, finally figured his life how it seemed, atleast I’ve got my degree done in the field that interests me the most, finally could start where he wanted. Since this ain’t some Hollywood movie, the question is absolutely justified, where the fuck do I start? I mean sure, daddy’s got the money, probably knows some people that know some people, but, I was still a bit lost on how to make something out of it, all these years complaining about these fuckers and then calling in the same family bonuses? Didn’t seem right to me, so the only logical thing was to try and find some job, what I mean, I obviously studied for. Kinda worked actually, I even went and digged up some old vases and stuff, pretty neat, not what I had in mind when I started all this, but atleast it was connected with what I studied for I guess? That has to count for something right? Let’s fact check this, probably most of the jobs are not really what you imagine them to be, and this was no difference. Remember? - I wanted some adventure, some risk, - the only risky thing about digging around in half a meter deep holes was Ben sitting in the next hole and yapping about sand getting in his shoes, or the consistency of the sand itself, everything was about soil, sand and ground in general with that guy, god knows what he had with this, fuck how annoying this idiot was. Hated him, no really, absolute pure hate, don’t know why, it just came over me. So here I was, running closer to a stroke than anything else, this needed to change, another 2 years with Ben and I will be gone to dad‘s company, sitting and arguing with Laura the secretary about the milk in the coffee, yes, lactose intolerance, fucking sucks, I know.. so a valid reason I would say, you have to agree. Things had to change, so what was the only reasonable thing to do, exactly, trying the most borderline stupid activity on this planet, cave diving, not that cave diving is stupid in itself, it’s just that I somehow had a hand to befriend myself with the most careless people in the world, that „teached“ me, if could call it that. You know, there’s a thing about cave diving, that’s really important, and you never should do, dive alone and without a lifeline, but hey, that’s what makes the kick right? Little spoiler for you, everything was fine, didn’t drown, obviously, how else could you listen to me. You probably wondering „John, how the fuck is all of this connected and what the fuck are you talking about?“ exactly! You know where the most „treasures“ are? In caves - you know what caves are usually the most dangerous to go into? Yes, the ones completely under water. You’ve ever heard about Aztec gold? Yup, into Mexico it drove me, what better places to combine flooded caves, with lost treasure than Mexico, Yucatán, next to Guatemala, you know down there on the right somewhere. So my goal was set, unexplored under water caves. By now I was sure, this was exactly what I wanted my whole life, adventure, exploring new things, Nobody else had seen before. So, calling in daddy’s money to get me started on this, or selling the stuff i got here and using that money? Thinking about it, it never made any sense, car and house was from dad‘s money anyways, but hey, it made me feel better, what can I say, so I’ve sold my stuff here, booked me the next flight, packed my gear and some undies and went onto that plane towards my destination. I’ve always was what you could call a lone wolf, not that I hated people, it was more my nature of being. Growing up in a rich family, on this fancy schools, you never really know, who’s your friend and who just pretends, I’ve always got off better alone. This trip tough pushed me a little into the social side of things, I had to find people that know some places, the more local those people were the better. If you want to find the stuff nobody has found already, following official guides will never get you what you seek. So the next few weeks, I was busy getting to know a few local divers, one of em, Carlos, how I understand does hos name basically means „free men“ and by god, he was, Carlos didn’t had a care about anything in this world, he lived by the day, so technically speaking, the perfect guy for the job, he definitely knew some things.