Young Writers Society

The imagination, what is it to you? Is it that part of the brain that makes you see things, or is it something bigger? When you dream, what do you dream about? Do you dream about the wonders of the world or what you did today? I don’t know about you, but the imagination to me is one thing, it’s my home place. The place belongs to me, it lives within my mind. As I close my eyes, you should see what I mean.

Its autumn, leaves scattering the paths below me. I look up, seeing that the wind is about to pick up. We have a stroll across the pathway, couples chattering away or people walking past in a hurry. The men with their suits while the women with their knees length dresses, swaying as the wind touches the brim of their dresses. Laughter of boys and girls ring throughout my ears as they push one another, disappearing into the town. I look to my left, people listening to their music, or dancing throughout the streets with the local bands. I smile, walking into town.

Old fashioned buildings cover the streets, standing tall and proud. The oak doors are open; people rush in to buy the latest gadgets and toys. I glance in one of the windows, chuckling as one of the customers is arguing with the shop owner, demanding for a refund. The latest music singles reaches my ears when I stroll around my town, humming the tune that goes with it. People start to chat in the towns square, either arguing or laughing away. The town square is in the heart of the town, beating its heart as people walk in. The fountain’s water shines as the sun kisses it, making me squint a little. I look into the fountain water, staring blankly at my appearance.

The wind picks up a little as people begin to hold onto their hats. At first, I wonder why people hold their hats down, but then I realise. My hat flies off my head as I begin to run after it, not caring if people stare in confusion or amusement. It flies off into the park, I begin to wonder why. I run after the cotton hat, stopping as I reached the lake. It had landed on top of the water, sitting there all damp and wet. I close my eyes, holding a hand out in front of me. The wind picks up making my dress move to one side, my hair doing the same. However, I don’t focus on that, just the wind. I take a deep breath, opening my eyes, which are glowing aqua. The hat lifts into the air, landing on my head once more.

I laugh; things are so much simpler in my world. I feel myself growing tired, I’m out of energy. I stroll back to my home, opening the door. It’s a small home, with only two floors and modern furniture. A bookcase is seen on the left side of the wall, a glass door to the right. That door opens the back yard, the mighty garden of my palace. To walk through that would be quite a challenge, even I never got through it at times. The green hedges begin from the pond, making a maze as people walk through it. However, I don’t want to do this, I want to go and sleep. I walk up the stair case, landing on top of my bed. I sigh, closing my eyes.

I open my eyes to see your confused face staring down at me, raising a brow. Why are you so confused? That is my home, which is my imagination. It’s where I belong the most.