I've made my own luck.
Born from a family of drunks and gamblers, growing up, I would often hear my father blame his wretched existence - his words not mine - on either his parents or his unlucky fate.
He'd come home drunk and lash out and lecture us how unfair it all is and that he didn't deserve any of the things that are going wrong in his life.
My old man never acted on us physically and he'd calm down once the booze wears off. Buy us something nice and warm to eat as a way to apologize if he could.
There were 3 of us siblings, all boys. Mom left us when we were still little, didn't know where she went until I was old enough to look for her on my own. Found that she started a new family in some back-water province.
Met my half-siblings there, it was an overall nice experience - meeting my siblings.
Getting off-topic here.
Point is, us brothers, we had to be somewhat independent at a young age.
We'd do the chores before our father gets home from work, then quickly leave before he gets back.
On weekends, we would look for small jobs in the market to make some coins. Maybe Led a hand here and there for some kind of compensation. Preferably something we could eat.
Looking back, the responsibilities sucked but the freedom made up for it a little.
It wasn't all that bad. Not a lot of good either - admittedly.
That's why when I met my wife, Prescilla, and we started planning a family of our own I told myself that I would do my very best for my family.
Using my trade, I plied my skills in other countries where the pay is better. It was hard at first, being away from your homeland and family.
But it was necessary to provide a better life for my family. Especially since my wife gave birth to our son.
We named him Marcus, after my wife's departed grandfather. I didn't know how small a baby's hand could be until I touched his. I felt weird, and it was all so surreal.
When I asked my father who was there at that time how it felt like when he saw me for the first time.
He smiled at me and said 'well, you were the second one at that time so I was less emotional then. So I thought: fuck, I gotta feed this one too.'
We looked at each other and laughed. It was one of the nicer moments we've had.
After years of toiling, separated from my family, I found a place where I could work and live with my family at the same time. A major milestone is what it felt like. Being able to watch my son grow on each passing day.
Until eventually, Marcus finally started studying at a local school.
He quickly took to reading and writing.
Reading books especially, so much so that whenever he's not playing with other kids, he would often be found with a book in hand.
He became a big fan of fantasy novels and once he finished reading, he'd enthusiastically tell us about everything he's read in the book.
It wasn't long then when he thought of writing his very own. He was around 12 at that time, I caught him deep into the night scribbling away on the back pages of his maths notebook.
Turns out he wanted to keep his book a secret so he could surprise us. I let him be and promised him I won't tell his mother. I figured it was a good learning experience of the importance of getting enough sleep. I thought this was probably something he'd do once and hate it enough to not do a second time.
I didn't think anything of it at that time, not until I was called to the school by his literature teacher for a talk.
It was then that Marcus's teacher showed me his book and expressed her astonishment and interest in guiding him on his writing. Promising to do her very best and not impede Marcus on his natural development.
The whole time, emphasising at how gifted our son is.
I felt so proud of him and when I told his mother of what his teacher had said, she too felt the same.
By his next school year, with the guidance of his teacher, Marcus finished his first book.
Son's Orion.
I couldn't even pretend to have any interest in reading it. Never been much of a book person, something that my son was aware of. Knowing this ahead of time, my son opted to tell me about his book's story instead. It became something of a bonding time between the two of us.
His mother, much to her disappoint of me, read the entirety of Marcus's book. I bet she was only mad because she didn't think she had the option to just listen to the story from the author himself.
His teacher asked us for permission to get the book published somehow. Marcus readily agreed but I had my doubts, after the pleading from both my son and his teacher I finally relented, stating that as long as in doesn't do anything to financially harm us it would be fine.
The teacher gave me her word that she would do the very best for Marcus. We didn't hear about her efforts to publish the book for a few months. Meanwhile, Marcus started writing another book after a month of short break.
To me and my wife's surprise his teacher came to us and showed us a contract. Apparently, there was someone willing to invest in my son's work - no strings attached. Provided that he is willing to keep on writing of his own accord, he is also open to the idea of continuing to publish any future books that Marcus creates, if we so choose.
We wanted to meet this said person but we were refused. Saying that he wanted to remain anonymous and his acts of philanthropy kept private. In the midst of our suspicion the teacher explained that she had the contract looked at by a friend of hers that finished in a law school and verified that everything in here is as the old man has promised.
So, we accepted this mysterious man's offer. Much to the delight of my child and his teacher. Not knowing of the blessing that will come our way.
Under a pen name, my son's first book became a success. Making fortunes unbefitting of my his age. We were in disbelief to what was happening at that time.
But it didn't end there, Marcus's next book - A mackle tale - was also well received.
By that point, it is no exaggeration to say that Marcus took us out of poverty.
We went from doing well enough to being well abundant. We purchased our own home, even Marcus's teacher was able to buy hers through managing Marcus's work as a medium to the philanthropist that we never got to meet. Even after multiple years and multiple books that Marcus has submitted.
With Marcus's real identity hidden under his pen name , Arcus, we lived in peace. It was a life I could have never imagined, although we didn't indulge, me and my wife were living a very fulfilled life at that point.
I still kept working while my wife left hers and took on sewing for a hobby, it kept us entertained and sharp. A much more different outlook from when we had to work in order to keep ourselves afloat.
We kept most of the money our son made in a bank account for his future use. We were used to living frugally before and we both disliked the idea of fuelling a lavish lifestyle on the back of our child's hard work.
Everything seems to be going well. With Marcus having finished high school and on his way to applying for a college.
But, how could it have been this way.
Waking up to an unfamiliar sky.
With towering buildings that with no exaggeration reach the clouds. Technology powered by magics I thought only existed in stories.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Whose body is this that I am wearing?
Where is my family?
What's happening to me?
As all these thoughts kept bombarding my head, amongst the many, one echoes the loudest.
How do I get back?