Prologue

Hello. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I've always seen things that don't exist.

Of course, when I was a little kid, I did believe that what I saw was real. Imagination knows no bounds at that age. Of course, it was crushed out of me rather quickly…especially after my parents committed me to an institution for the mentally troubled.

Now, I don't really blame them that much. It was hard enough caring for all of my brothers without me talking to the air. It really worried a lot of people; them most of all, probably. But I couldn't understand why I was the only one who saw these things. I automatically, in my childish naivety, assumed that everyone saw the same things as I did. Boy, was I wrong.

The institution didn't like it when we referred to it as an asylum; a crazy place. But, that didn't stop most of us. Granted, the majority of the other kids in there did have major problems that interfered with their being a part of society. But some of us, me included, felt that we weren't supposed to be there. But in the end, I was the only one who was able to change their situation.

I lived there for a fairly long time. I arrived after my sixth birthday and stayed until I was twelve. But I couldn't stand it there. I got along with the other "inmates," although I never really made friends. I was lonely still. I kept seeing things. Every day, the doctors would come and talk to me, acting like I was mentally challenged. They would try to convince them that what I saw wasn't real.

But, after a while, I realized that what I saw wasn't real. It was just an illusion; one I created myself to keep myself company. I later hypothesized that I made one for myself as a kid to deal with loneliness when my parents would work and my older brothers ignored me. This led me to the realization that maybe; just maybe, I might be able to create an illusion that someone else could see.

After a few nights of practicing on my fellow inmates, I set an illusion that made the nurse believe I wasn't in my cell. As she opened it, frantic, I simply walked out. I realized then that with this new skill, all doors were open to me.

I escaped, alone. And then I started life anew at twelve as the Illusionist.


Hello, Lit here! I'm so terribly sorry for starting on a new story when my old one has gone stale, but inspiration struck, and several hours later, here I am! The first chapter will be posted shortly.

If there are any Brits that can suggest some changes in grammar/spelling, I would be happy to change it! This is going to be almost like a written diary made by dear Arthur himself. It would be nice to keep it kind of accurate! :D