Imagination | Teen Ink

Imagination

February 14, 2009
By Megabite SILVER, Dublin, Ohio
Megabite SILVER, Dublin, Ohio
9 articles 5 photos 8 comments

I used to think it would last forever.


I would sit there or hours at my little wood desk and stare at the deep blue sky. It’s blue giving way to the coming clouds as they passed. A rabbit. A Lully pop. So many shapes that popped up in the clouds would surround the sky, filling it to the brim.

It was my world, a reality that only belonged to me. A fantasy of sorts that I was queen of. Everyday welcoming me home from the tortures of the earth that lay beyond the doors of my world. My shining golden doors that always stood firm for only me.

It was my one and only friend. My real home from home that I could always run too and cry in its arms. I held me close in its warm grasp when my earth did not. It sheltered me from the coming storm as it unleashed its lightning upon my world, only to be struck down by my gates. It was my red rose that was soft and smooth, unleashing its sent upon me and welcoming me back with tenderness and affection.

Even as I grew it did too, still sheltering me from the wrath of the true world that everyone else knew.

When I was 10 it was my fortress that stood firm; my wonderland of forever fun and games.

When I was 14 it held me close when my mother left. Taking the new role as my mother and keeping me forever near. Wrapping me in its arms as I cried.

When I went on 23 it became my “welcome home”; everyday after work wrapping me in a blanket and cooing me into sleep in its arms as we fell asleep on the couch

And when I was nearing 36 it began to fade.

Those big sturdy doors began to fade from my mind as something else replaced it. LOVE. True love. A boy my age, so caring and wonderful, full of humor and fun. Yes he was the one, the one to spend the rest of eternity with.

Everyday it became more and more forgotten as I would leave the castle saying, “I’d be back”. But soon that “be back” became more of a “good bye”. Not returning to the castle for days on end.

Once, I left for such a long period of time that when I said “hello” once more I opened my eyes to a long string of ruins. Bricks upon bricks fell in cascades from the skeleton of the once beautiful castle. Dust, and more dust everywhere covered the ground where long pastures of grass used to lie, and my flag, once standing tall upon the very top of my tower, lay in ruins at my feet. Its last little bit of staff jolting from the ground.

It was gone, and I had once thought it would last forever.


As I returned to the real world, all I could see was tears. But what did I expect, time moves and so does life. Things no matter how strong they are don’t always last forever.
Unless… you are willing to start again.


And so, when I was 97, and on my deathbed, a needle protruding from my arm, the only thing keeping me alive as I lived my last years, I was willing. Even though I had lost all train of thought, all ability to speak, all life seeping out through my cracks, I planted my rose once again.

For the rest of my life it sat, resting in a pot of brown on my windowsill, so bright and red, standing out from the blue sky.

It had once been my home, my castle, my shining golden gates, my one friend, my mother, my blanket, my shelter, my “welcome home”, and now my red, red rose that would always be waiting for me.

So… I sat in my bed staring at the deep blue sky. It’s blue giving way to the coming clouds as they passed. A rabbit. A Lully pop. So many shapes that popped up in the clouds would surround the sky, filling it to the brim I realized…

IT HAD ALWAYS BEEN MY IMAGINATION.


The author's comments:
I love writing deep emotional pieces and I hope you like this one. I love it allot myself, because it really shows the true me.

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