I was 5 years old when my father died, our mother told my siblings and I that we were going to live with our grandparents in Virginia. She told us that they were one of the wealthiest families in the state, and their mansion had more rooms than we could imagine. Boy, were we wrong! I'm not saying the house wasn't big, it is just that there was no fun. Our grandmother, Olivia, was a bitter old woman who punished us for our existence, calling us "The Devil's Spawn" and other terrible things while we were locked in a room in a secluded area of the mansion. She even once stopped bringing us food, forcing us to resort to some unthinkable things. We were starving, and nearly dying, until one day Grandmother brought us some powdered donuts. They were delicious, except the powder wasn't powdered sugar, it was Arsenic. Somebody tried to poison us. I was the first to get sick.

My older sister Cathy begged our mother to take me to a hospital. She took me out of our confined room, but she left me to rot in a secret room in the vast attic where my siblings and I would pass the time since we could not go outside. If it would have not been for a third cousin of mine who witnessed my mother leaving me to die in the attic, I would have never lived to tell you this story. He took me out of that small room, and secretly took me to a nearby hospital, where he made sure that nobody knew where I came from. All of this to protect himself from scrutiny, and above that, my mother.

The doctors worked vigorously to keep me alive, even though the Arsenic I had ingested severely weakened my Nervous system, and nearly destroyed my internal organs. My condition was so terrible, everyone was certain I would die. If it would have not been for Grandpa Arnold, a wealthy, elderly man who had just recently lost his grandson in an accident involving a drunk driver, welcoming me into his home, I would have lived the rest of my childhood and my adolescence as a disabled orphan. No one would want to adopt me, and once I was too old to be an orphan, I would have probably ended up homeless.

It was Grandpa Arnold's generosity that kept me alive in a relatively better state. He spared no expense throughout my recuperation process. He purchased many different types of medical equipment, he hired physical therapists, and he even remodeled parts of his home to make it more accessible for me when it was even more difficult than usual for me to walk. I recovered that I could take small steps with the aid of crutches or Orthotic braces, but I could not run, my legs were just too weak. I felt depressed, and suffered from night terrors for most of my life as William Arnold, luckily Grandpa Arnold noticed my state and hired a psychiatrist to help me process my emotions.

During the time I spent separated from my siblings, I found myself questioning the purpose of my existence. I could only remember a few details about them, but I still felt as if they were the only ones who could make me whole again. I would have given up anything just to be with them again. I yearned every day to reunite with my family, until I finally did, in the most odd way possible.

One day, a group of people came to Grandpa Arnold's mansion, one of them said he was from the CIA, the others just stood there. The others told Grandpa Arnold they needed someone who had little leg function to operate a machine for them, and one of Grandpa Arnold's friend had recommended me. Three of the people in the crowd later revealed themselves as Christopher, Cathy, and Carrie. I was taken to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, where I was trained to use a state-of-the-art robotic suit to break into the very home that had tormented me for most of my life, Foxworth Hall. Chris and Cathy had come from the future, and from what they called the "Real World", with their family, and some "friends". I know, did I just say "Future", the "Real World", and "Their Family", trust me, eventually I'll explain.

They said that a wanted criminal, presumed dead for over 20 years, from what they were told was World War III, named Alexandria Burromuerto had gone into the Book" with Betty Deville, grandmother of future US President Jillian DeVille-Hong, and her aging army of Anti-Incest fighters, crossing through what was called "The "Creepypasta Machine" to reach my grandmother, Olivia, seeking funding of their outdated hate group. Their goal was to rearm, retrain, and recruit for an all-out attack on the New Incestatopian Empire, on the Moon. Luckily the New Incestatopians found out about the plan and created a US-New Incestatopian coalition alliance to crush this truly evil foe. As the US, both in what I called "The Present" and "The Future", sided with New Incestatopia, the AIO, or the Anti-Incest Organization sought help from America's classic enemy, the Soviet Union. The USSR sent armed men, weaponized vehicles, and other reinforcements to their aid, and as a token of good will, they sent a Chemistry and Politics/Intelligence student from one of Moscow's top schools, and a soon to be up-and-coming KGB agent, to help lead the Soviet forces, that man's name was Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, I have been told he is pretty important.

Eventually both sides fought, just not how the AIO had planned. It took place on the grounds of Foxworth Hall. The fight raged on until the AIO and the Soviets were defeated, and Zack Burke, one of the people in the group who came to Grandpa Arnold's mansion decapitated Grandmother Olivia with his sword. The only bad part was that Garland, one of Chris and Cathy's sons, brought the head along with him as a friend.

When the criminals were rounded up, and I had regained my full memory, after Carrie kissed me for my bravery with the robotic suit, everyone was ready to return home. Well, everyone but Carrie and I, who had not just been separated from each other for many years, but had no idea what the "Future" had in store for us. Chris and Cathy told us it would be tough to adapt at first, but they promised us that they would be at our side no matter what. After giving my farewell to Grandpa Arnold, Clara Sue, and all those who helped me in my time of need, I went into the "Future" with my newly rediscovered family.

Now some of you might be asking to yourself, are you on crack? I have no idea what I'm talking about, I've been told it's a common expression for my situation. I'm not talking about the attic incident, I'm talking about the time travel and the fighting. Well, would you prefer my family's story to be one of just lust, revenge, betrayal, forbidden love, hate, and pure evil? Personal, I don't know anyone who would ever read that? But, then again, 40 million copies sold would disagree. My new life with my family would be the new chapter in my life story, my name is Cory Dollanganger, and this is my story.