To Beyond the World I Know
As a child, I used to stay up late under my bed covers, poring over novels under the glow of my handheld flashlight. My back and elbows would ache from the hunched position, and my eyes burned from the strain of being open so long in the night. My whole body would beg to rest. That didn’t matter to me, though. My mind was occupied somewhere else; somewhere much, much better than the mundane reality of aching muscles and sleepy eyes. I was in a world outside the borders of my own; a magical, unknown universe that I was so keen to explore.
My books were an odd thing; they were nothing more than a stack of printed pages, and yet, they were infinitely many times greater. They served as my much needed escapes. With the turn of a page I could embark on a journey – I could lose myself in uncharted lands and give my mind a vacation from reality. The books offered me a life beyond my four bedroom walls.
In those moments, I didn’t exist as the little girl under her covers. I would be so immersed in the novel that my place in the real world wouldn’t be so real to me anymore. My consciousness was in Narnia, in Alagaesia, in Hogwarts. The books were the doors to these worlds. I stepped inside the printed pages and they took my hand, saying, “Come with me.” My life would begin anew as a part of the story – I was taken under the wing of the words, and they guided me along a journey. I fought beside the hero, plotted evil with the villain, and walked alongside my companions. I lived and felt every sentence.
When the book finally closed and I returned to Earth as the sleepy child with her flashlight, my real world would have traces of the adventure in one way or another. My books would show physical evidence of my emotions associated with certain passages; fruit punch stains from the spills of my mouth at the biggest plot turn, dried tear blotches at the tragic death of my favourite character, and the worn covers of the gripping story that I, in turn, gripped tightly with my hands. From the stories themselves I learned invaluable lessons about important ideas – bravery, kindness, love, and friendship. Even today, the remnants of my journeys are always present in the reality.
My books are so much more than a bundle of paper – they are entire worlds beyond my own that I can still return to and call home. They reach out to me from their shelves sometimes, inviting me to visit again. Every time I relive the stories, nothing has changed – the adventure is as fresh and engaging as it was to the little girl under the covers so many years ago. I fall in love with the journey all over again.
A prize of $500.00 was awarded.
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