I had been browsing on here for a while and I thought it would be a good idea to share a personal story. A bit of a disclaimer: though I remember parts of the experience, there are parts of it that were a complete blur to me, so please be patient.

Let's see, starting at the age of 8, my parents were looking for any excuse under the sun to leave the house. I'm guessing that's why they decided to trust the first babysitter that they saw without doing proper background checks. This babysitter, let's call her Vicky, would always put on this face of politeness and purity around my parents, but she would shed that facade whenever they left. Some of the things she did included forcing me to do chores meant for her, allowing her dog to attack me, use me as a footstool...and that's all I can remember at the top of my head (if anyone is interested, I'll let you know if I remember more).

Anyway, back to my parents; from what I remembered, they weren't exactly the most qualified to be parents. They often tried to rid themselves of their responsibility of taking care of me, my well-being had been the least of their concerns, they'd often forget my birthdays and, if I remember right, would only spent time with me if they had something to potentially gain from it.

I wasn't a loner when I was growing up, mind you. I had friends, a bully, and a crush I would never get, just like any other kid. However, while I remember certain friends clearly, other friends, I don't remember all that well. I don't remember what they look like or their names, but I do remember they made me feel safe and worthy. All those friends knew that Vicky wasn't that great of a person, but she was a great actor around the adults.

One day, I guess I was ranting about Vicky and my parents to the friends I only remember the impact of (let's call them Jim and Jessie) and Jim mentioned something about law enforcement like "It's not like Vicky could get arrested for what she has done." I looked at Jessie since she knew more and she claimed to remember that people have gone to juvie or jail for anything that ranged from everything beyond what Vicky has done to neglect as a legal guardian. I asked her why I never knew about that until then and there and she said something along the lines of "You couldn't get your parents to believe you. Would the police really help you?" Although it was tough love on her part, it did allow me to think that I would need a lot of help if I wanted to get rid of the problem.

For several months, I was able to inconspicuously collect pictures and footage of all that Vicky had done not just to myself, but to her own family as well as the rest of my friends. Vicky's sister was able to supply some pictures she had already taken (guess there were some perks to having a stalker after all) and I was able to gather my evidence. How I managed to do so at the age of 10 was something I still can't comprehend, but I felt accomplished looking at back at what I could. I was also able to collect some evidence of neglect from my parents while I was at it.

After I collected more than enough of what I needed, I had to go through with one of the hardest parts: finding a lawyer for court. It wasn't like a lot of 10-year-olds could find a lawyer so easily, but I was able to find one (probably due to karma giving me a hand or the stars aligning, I can't remember). It took a long time for everything to be sorted and arranged, but I was able to get all three of them to court. My parents probably didn't prepare any scapegoats, so that probably explained why the judge didn't sympathize with them after he witnessed the evidence. Once I got the evidence against Vicky regardless of the stare she gave me that implied she might've had heat vision, she tried her best come up with excuses and get sympathy from the jury. However, her sister stood up and shouted confirmations of Vicky's actions, which prompted other nervous kids to soon do the same. It took a long time, but Vicky was tried as an adult to jail due to the clear severity of her assault and my parents lost custody of me to my grandfather (which was probably for the best to my parents).

Apart from moving in with my grandfather, the rest of the day was pretty blurry. I hadn't see Jim or Jessie since the court sentence, either, but I hope they know how grateful I am for them making me feel worthy. My grandfather and I had gotten close and were able to bond over cartoons. I, also, had a better education from a different teacher since my under-qualified teacher claimed to not have the motivation for my classroom at that point, but that's a story for another day. As for me? Well, TV and comics have helped me come up with so many stories, so I took the opportunity to make graphic novels and reach out to various sources. All in all, can't complain.