Okay, Today's the Day. (First Writing Post)

Agh, hello everyone. (a.k.a, Rose, Jessa, and Jay, most likely my only viewers left) Today is that day. The day for my very first writing blog post. Once more, thank you to everyone who voted. :) Argh, okay, well I just wrote this, and it's rather dark, at least, to me it is, considering I never write anything nearly like this, so let me know how I did. :)
P.S, sorry I delayed this so long, I was at my grandparents house.
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Ink, the substance that stains my fingers and palms. Parchment, the thing that allows me to live. Reality? my prison. Ink and parchment are my ticket out of the cell I live in. Words, my boats, trains, aeroplanes that take me away. Away from all the misery and disappointment. The crying of children, cold, hungry and weak. The screams of men and women being beaten in the square. Writing lets me leave this world behind and enter a new one, full of life and happiness. It's the only thing that can keep me sane throughout the long, cold, weary days, where I learn about the cruelty of our ancestors, and the brutality of the beaters that line every street, every back alley. We don't want to, but we have no choice, unless we want to be punished severely. We are too young to be learning these sorts of things, and most of the teachers agree. But there are those who enjoy seeing the pain on the little children's faces. It's sick. For quite a while now, about half of our little village has been planning on fighting back, with more people joining each day. Planning to overthrow King Julius, the monster that is responsible for the torment and torture. If he found out that I write, I would be most certainly hanged on the spot. I don't write just for me, though. I do it for my little brothers and sisters, and for the other children as well. My stories take their minds off of their shivering bodies and empty stomachs, at least for a while. They rely on me to give them hope, hope that they will escape from the grasp of the King and find our own world. A world like the ones in my stories, where there are no beatings, no illnesses, and always full stomachs. "One day," I tell them. "One day, we will escape. All of us. I can promise you that." Only I don't tell them that the only way that they will escape from this world is by leaving it forever and dying.
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Argh, that was bad. But let me know what you think!
-Costello