I recently found this little story among some old things of mine my dad had kept (he keeps a lot of stuff). So I decided to share it. I wrote it in January of 1991, according to my dad's notes, when I had just turned seven. It's slightly morbid, especially for a seven-year-old, but it may have helped set the tone for my future writing (and I only just realized it).
I edited it slightly for readability (mostly I removed some commas).
Once there was a girl. She was tired. So she decided to take a nap. First she read, then she fell asleep in her chair. Her mom came and kissed her goodnight. She slepted for a long time. She had a dream. Her dream was about her having a birthday. But one person got killed. Because someone snuck into the yard and shot her. Suddenly she woke up! And started to cry. The reason she had that dream because she had a friend that died. Because she got dead she fell into somewhere sharp. She bled all over. They took her to the Hospital. Then the girl wished to die with her friend.
So I may have had issues as a child? Suppressed some trauma? I don't know. But there you go. I think it's funny, in a retrospective kind of way.