A story based on the verses of a poem.

Essay by H4ck3l2High School, 10th gradeA+, December 2006

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English Story

I stepped out of the taxi (after having paid the ridiculous fare) and convinced my raw legs to move to the entrance of a huge granite building.

Although old and bruised, the castle-like building stood proud and fearless defying gravity, dominating the landscape. I felt envy swallowing my stomach.

The earth was pulling me down but I floutingly walked on. The day was cold. The clouds were lying heavy and dark and cold. The sun stood proudly on his throne, watching me, cursing me and beating me down with rays of bitter gold. The day was too cold.

The walking stick, the dead family, the dying body, the wasted life were inexistent now. Nothing mattered. Anymore. For the first time in years, I felt a strange warm infect my body, and for the first time in years I was not dreading living another second of my life. For the first time in my life, I was happy, I was looking forward to something besides death...

I pursued the grey path to the hidden treasure. The doors were heavier now, than they were all those years ago. I struggled to push them open. I stepped in a wide open entrance and let myself melt in old comforts. Gentle warmth enveloped and soothed me.

After sweet moments of twilight, I remembered the purpose of my return to this old sanctuary. The reception was exactly where it was when I was last here. I felt like I had been on holiday and had returned home to think I had the wrong house. But it wasn't like that. This was the right house. My home.

My feet reluctantly walked towards the attractive blonde receptionist. We exchanged pleasantries. I gave my name and reason for arrival and thought no more about it. She...