Ever Since I was a lil kid I've heard stories about mythical creatures and places I've always wanted to explore, and find out if they're actually true, after I had an argument with my foster parents and I ran away from home I had no idea my whole world was about to change.
My Is Crimson, I was named that cause my eyes where bright red right from birth and I was born on a crimson moon, some people called me strange, while others called me "Orame" meaning " the cursed child" in my native dialect, I was born on July 21st 1820 on a crimson moon, I heard a lot of stories about my birth, People said it was a blood bath, that my mom bleed out while pushing me out, I didn't get to meet my mom or my dad, stories has it that after my mom died he tried to kill me as a baby, he called me a curse, the neighbors didn't let him do that so he killed himself.
Growing up without my actual parents was really tough for me, I was the most hated kid in school, no one liked me, my foster parents tried to show me all the love they could, but i knew deep down they we're scared of me.
Years past, and I got into a lot of trouble in school which resulted in me being kicked out, so I stopped school and started helping out my foster dad at the farm, My foster dad "Billy", was a farmer, a hardworking one too, we weren't rich but he made sure I and my foster mom "Annie" were well taken care of.
I turned 16 I started having crazy nightmares, they all felt soo real, I was in the dream one time and I got stabbed in the chest with a wooden stake and I died, as I woke up I felt like it was because of the vampire and werewolf stories I've been listening to lately, it only got worse, night after night different nightmares, and I didn't tell anyone about them I kept it to myself as the nightmares became worse I started developing anger issues I got into a lotta fights with almost every kid around the block, and ofc I never lost any fight, my foster parents on the other hand were on the receiving side of my anger spree, everyday they get complains after complains about me, it didn't sit right with my dad as he always lashed out at me.
On August 4th 1836 I and my foster dad had a very huge fight, and I left him with a bleeding nose, out of anger and frustration he yell at me and told me to pack my bags and leave his house, me being mad at the moment took off into the woods, I kept running not looking back deeper and farther into the woods I got it soon it was nightfall and I didn't want to go back so I lay under a huge oak tree and tried to get some rest cause I was already tired from the running and then I dosed off.
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