Stepping out of the gym doors of the school building, I was excited that school was finally over for the day. The journey into my world began as soon as I stepped out the door. It was windy and the wind seemed to pick up the fall leaves and gently circle them around in what looked like a systematic way. As I walked on towards the twirling leaves, they came towards me too, eventually circling me. I understood how they expressed themselves. Their freedom. Their creativity. Their spontaneity. Saying many things, in multiple languages, but all in a harmonious sync that only I could hear. The winds forming a pattern only I could see. It seemed, they wanted me to twirl too. Locking in my thoughts safely in my mind, stifling my grin and excitement for the wonders of the world that only I could see, I walked on quickly to find my mom waiting in her car. At home, I ate a bit, and watched some TV before going up to my room to look out the window at the sunset I stared at often. How the different colors came together fascinated me. An experience I had all to myself. As I watched it, characters developed in my mind first, becoming weaved slowly into a story I was piecing together at the moment. My stories had no beginning, and no ends. Only moments, experiences, excerpts, awkwardly placed on a blank sheet. I never did know how to write beginnings and ends.
Sometimes I would run around the house, pretending to solve a mystery, catch a thief, escape danger. Sprinting through the grass, I would jump onto the deck, racing to the edges and climbing over in one smooth, swift move, back on the grass, tussling through low branches of the trees, running across the front lawn before any passing car could spot me, and doing it all over again. In my stories, I could save the world. There were no barriers. No countries or languages, no demons I couldn't slay, no one I couldn't save. In my world, I could do it all.
Sometimes I would run around the house, pretending to solve a mystery, catch a thief, escape danger. Sprinting through the grass, I would jump onto the deck, racing to the edges and climbing over in one smooth, swift move, back on the grass, tussling through low branches of the trees, running across the front lawn before any passing car could spot me, and doing it all over again. In my stories, I could save the world. There were no barriers. No countries or languages, no demons I couldn't slay, no one I couldn't save. In my world, I could do it all.
