The Beginning

Cosplay.

I had never heard of that word before, and yet it is there. A term for the words "costumed role-play," in which people dress in costume and perform moments from their favorite shows or movies. It had originated in Japan, where people re-enacted their favorite anime, manga, or TV show, and then when anime became popular in America, many people there took up cosplaying and there were cosplaying conventions everywhere around the world.

Little did I know that this was to be my way of life.

My name is Nicholas Blue Prater and this is the story of how I became a cosplayer.

A description of me: I am a boy who would remind you of some boring geek, but luckily, I don't wear glasses. I have slitted eyes the color of ripe plums. My silky, straight, chestnut hair is worn in a simple, plain style. I am short, have a regular build, my skin is white, and I have prominent cheekbones. Looking at me, you would be surprised to know that this plain boring kid became a major cosplayer at school and beyond.

When did I become a cosplayer? It began after my mother's death and my father's remarriage when I was ten years old. My stepmother and her children all moved into our house, leaving me stuck in the tiny cramped room with the mismatched furniture and the lumpy bed. Not that I didn't not mind the bed or the furniture or even the room, I just wished that my new family would get off my back.

Descriptions of my family: My stepmother, Stella, was a woman who reminded you of a joyous songbird. She had deep-set brown eyes that are like two patches of dried blood. Her silky, wavy, brown hair is worn in a style that reminds you of a dust ball. She had a thin build, is cream-colored skin, a domed forehead, and large hands.

My father, Richard, was a playful man who has wide brown eyes that are like two drops of chocolate. His silky, straight, dark hair is long and it is worn in a complex, carefully crafted style. He has a narrow build, deeply tanned skin, and small feet.

My stepbrother Bryce was a boy who makes you think of a menacing tornado. He has droopy brown eyes that are like two acorns. His fine, curly, night-black hair is neck-length and is worn in a carefully crafted, precise style. He is very tall and has a plump build, cream-colored skin, and thin eyebrows.

My stepsister Brynn, Bryce's twin, was a friendly girl with beady blue eyes that are like two chunks of lapis lazuli. Her fine, wavy, red hair is medium-length and is worn in an artistic, dignified style. She is short and has a lithe build. Her skin is pale. She has small ears and a small mouth.

My other stepsister, Bonnie, was a girl puts you in mind of a dishonest shyster. She had slitted gray eyes that are like two pieces of steel. Her silky, straight, long hair is the color of coffee with cream and worn in an uncomplicated style. She is very tall and has a lithe build. Her skin is light-colored. She has long-fingered hands.

My younger stepbrother, Billy, was a boy who reminds you of a playful kitten. He has large blue eyes that are like two pools of water. His fine, straight, brown hair is short and worn in a practical style. He has a boyish build. His skin is ruddy. He has a large mouth and long-fingered hands.

So anyway, when I was 13, my father got a new job in a different city in a different state, so we all had to move to California to a little-known town called Estus, which was right next to Springston. There, I was placed into Estus Middle School, but I had no friends. The other kids thought me weird because I never said much nor interacted with anyone. In fact, most people would be surprised if I had even spoken to them outside of the school at all.

When I turned 14, I was sent to Estus High School, where there were cliques and groups everywhere. My well-meaning stepmother had instructed her children to help me make some new friends, but they had all left me behind, essentially alone in high school. It was a rough time in my life.

The school's groups consisted of the jocks (you know, those sports stars who think they own the field), the geeks (they know more about technology than the latest celebrity in Hollywood), the Goths (they dressed in black and listened to emo music), the wannabes (who want to be somebody else but can't), and the just-plain normal people (who were basically everyone who just wanted to get through high school and head to college).

I certainly wasn't a jock or a geek, and there was no way I could ever be Goth or even normal. I just couldn't fit in with anyone, which was funny because after a few weeks of attending high school and keeping my head glued to my homework and earning whispers and stares from my classmates, I was introduced to the world of anime…and eventually cosplay.

Cherry Li Hampton first introduced me to anime. The mysterious girl had beady gray eyes that were like two pieces of steel. Her silky, curly, medium-length hair was the color of black coffee and worn in a businesslike style. She had an elegant build, china-white skin, thin eyebrows, and a strong chin.

I had been at the school for several weeks now and this was 2002, where anime had made its way to U.S. shores and people were going crazy watching anime. She noticed me as I sat in the library one day, staring mindlessly at the comic book that stepbrother Bryce had so thoughtfully given me.

Cherry said, "You actually read this stuff?"

"I'm not really reading that," I said. "Just looking."

"I see," said Cherry as she took the comic from me and tossed it into a pile of books. I knew I would have to make up a story as to why I had failed to give Bryce back his comic book later. "Now, someone like you doesn't need to be reading stuff like that."

"There's nothing wrong with reading comics," I said.

"Well, DC and Marvel are OK, but they're American-made," said Cherry. "I don't agree with those comics at all." She shoved a thicker-looking book under my nose. "Here, read this," she said, "and not that." *That*, referring to the comic, which was handed back to me by the librarian.

"If you manage to read the whole thing by the end of the week," said Cherry, "I have something for you." She left and I frowned, staring at the book that was before me. The title said Naruto. I had never heard of that before, nor had anyone else I chanced to speak to. But there it was, in my hands, and I had to read it. There wasn't much of another choice for me at this point, as I usually finished my homework before my stepsiblings did and spent most of my time buried up to my elbows in my father's Great Illustrated Classics, something none of them would dare to read.

Anyway, I went home and after completing homework and dinner, I went to my room, presumably to turn in for the night, but to read the manga. It would be a few hours before I found myself asleep reading the book, as I had done with the GIC.

But I didn't fall asleep reading at all. In fact, I managed to stay awake during the reading of the first few pages of the manga before I marked my place and went off to bed. Mangas, I thought to myself. On the surface, they appeared as comics, but unlike American comics, they are read from right to left and most of them have long, drawn-out storylines. But what made the manga so special that Cherry decided to give me the book?

Suddenly, to my shock, I realized two things: I never told her my name and she never told me hers; and I had no idea that within a few weeks, I'd be in a cosplay.

Cosplay.

I could never quite get used to that at all.