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Literature Text
After the army it was time for college. I wanted to draw comics. But they wouldn´t let me. A steady job is what I was supposed to go for. Something with a future. And to make it easier to decide, I did internships in all sorts of media companies. It was fun. I learned the ropes of fairs and advertising and saw quite a lot of the car industry - as I say: I am from Wolfsburg; Volkswagen city. Also I met Marc - he was british and freelancing as a technical illustrator. He like me, so I went with him, helping him out, drawing for all sorts of companies. He paid me good and we had a lot of fun. And as I was able to bring home some real money, I was able to convince my parents, that I need to study technical illustration - the only place I could do that, was in England, so I packed my stuff and moved. You may wonder, why I asked my parents. I did, because of the money. I don´t know about other countries, but in Germany, parents have to pay maintenance during education, including college, up to the 30th year of age. They agreed on paying the minimum fee; but as I had worked for Marc and I had some savings and the bank thought, I had a steady job, I was allowed a large overdraft. College in London was so cool - the best year of my life. New start, new friends, new perspectives, new input, new connections. And far away from home.
After the first year, I was overdrawn by about $20.000; London is expensive and the maintenance barely covered the halls of residents. And my parents refused to help. So I got a job during the summer holidays. And as I had learned, that I could make decent money with technical illustration like Marc, I started for Mercedes in Stuttgart. I got VERY lucky; the company I started working for, had NO idea about illustration or working with computers - this was in 1993 - and I had plenty of experience with Apple from my placements and I knew the basics of illustration from college. So they gave me a flat and a car and a computer and an excellent wage - and lots of things to do. When summer was over, I was no longer overdrawn and when I wanted to go back to college, Mercedes asked "Why don´t you stay? With us you don´t need a degree…" - so I stayed. A week after that decision, my drunk mother called my boss, asking him, where "her baby" would be. She told him off for not letting me come home, insulted him and made a fool of herself again. When he called me into the office to tell me, I thought I would die of shame. She loved doing this. In summer camp in Italy I got woken up by Italian Carabinieri with machine guns at night - heavily armed police men. I didn´t speak italian and was totally confused. The translator couldn´t be found but from their mix of Italian, German and English I gathered, that I was to contact home immediately, because my grandmother had died. They simply dragged me to the police car, making me get inside - and drove me about 15 miles to the police station. There I had to answer the phone. It was my mother - drunk as a skunk, asking me, how I would be. She was bored - and left me with the crew of an italian police station who mobilized their special forces to get me to the phone in the middle of the night - and who wanted to know, what was going on…
Anyway - I stayed with Mercedes for two years. After that I followed the call of an old girlfriend and moved to Wolfsburg again, starting to work for Volkswagen as an Illustrator. And I made a BIG mistake. Because my parents lost the tenants on the upper floor of their house and they were short of money, I moved in.
After the first year, I was overdrawn by about $20.000; London is expensive and the maintenance barely covered the halls of residents. And my parents refused to help. So I got a job during the summer holidays. And as I had learned, that I could make decent money with technical illustration like Marc, I started for Mercedes in Stuttgart. I got VERY lucky; the company I started working for, had NO idea about illustration or working with computers - this was in 1993 - and I had plenty of experience with Apple from my placements and I knew the basics of illustration from college. So they gave me a flat and a car and a computer and an excellent wage - and lots of things to do. When summer was over, I was no longer overdrawn and when I wanted to go back to college, Mercedes asked "Why don´t you stay? With us you don´t need a degree…" - so I stayed. A week after that decision, my drunk mother called my boss, asking him, where "her baby" would be. She told him off for not letting me come home, insulted him and made a fool of herself again. When he called me into the office to tell me, I thought I would die of shame. She loved doing this. In summer camp in Italy I got woken up by Italian Carabinieri with machine guns at night - heavily armed police men. I didn´t speak italian and was totally confused. The translator couldn´t be found but from their mix of Italian, German and English I gathered, that I was to contact home immediately, because my grandmother had died. They simply dragged me to the police car, making me get inside - and drove me about 15 miles to the police station. There I had to answer the phone. It was my mother - drunk as a skunk, asking me, how I would be. She was bored - and left me with the crew of an italian police station who mobilized their special forces to get me to the phone in the middle of the night - and who wanted to know, what was going on…
Anyway - I stayed with Mercedes for two years. After that I followed the call of an old girlfriend and moved to Wolfsburg again, starting to work for Volkswagen as an Illustrator. And I made a BIG mistake. Because my parents lost the tenants on the upper floor of their house and they were short of money, I moved in.
Part Five 
Part Three
Part One
Who Is Afraid Of The Bogey Man - 05 - IntermissionI went up the staircase, starting at ground floor and I was wondering, if the hooded figure would show up again.
With my left hand I held on to the old handrail that was smelling of varnish, slowly climbing up the stairs, counter-clockwise, step by step. Although I could feel the fear starting to chill me inside out, I forced myself to calmly keep on climbing.
Eight stair steps, the landing and another eight stair steps into the opposite direction to the second floor. I had reached the apartment door with the keys ready in my hand. To my left, the stairs continue. Two times eight stair steps to the attic, guarded by a very heavy fire-proof
Part Three
Who Is Afraid Of The Bogey Man - 03 - IntermissionI was standing in a staircase - ground floor - and I had to go upstairs. The light didn´t matter anymore. I was old and tall enough to reach the light switch. But it was still a lot of stairs to the second floor. Funny, that our old flat, where I was living now on my own was in a very similar building than my grand parents´. Also second floor, also on the left.
With my left hand I held on to the old handrail that was smelling of varnish, slowly climbing up the stairs, counter-clockwise, step by step. I hurried as good as I could. I knew I had to be brave. It was expected of me to be brave. Boys do not show fear, if they want to be men.
Eigh
Part One
Who Is Afraid Of The Bogey Man - Toras Bio
Who´s Afraid Of The Bogeyman?
Introduction
I was standing in a staircase - groundfloor - and I had to go upstairs. The artificial light was on and I didn´t know, if I would reach the second floor, before the built-in timer would switch it off again. I knew, I was too little to reach the switch to put it back on and I knew, that the height of the steps would mean a real obstacle for my young legs.
With my left hand I held on to the old handrail that was smelling of varnish, slowly climbing up the stairs, counter-clockwise, step by step. I hurried as good as I could. I didn´t want to be in the staircase in the dark.
Eight stair steps per
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Comments7
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This is a really interesting part of the story (I'm in the process of reading it though, so it might become more interesting!) I really like the insight into those years of your life. I knew you had studied in England but not that you had worked as a technical illustrator! 
Cool stuff.
Cool stuff.