Narnia?
WARNINGS: NONE
This was a 10 minute exercise I had to do in my creative writing class, I had fun with it. Not my best work, but not my worst either for only having 10 minutes
I found a scraped door tucked away within the recesses of the mega closet in my house. I’ve always wondered what was behind the door, but I never had the courage to open it. Until now. My hand twitches from nerves as I twisted the doorknob open, my breath stuttering. Swinging the door open, I bolt in and slam the door shut.
I look back.
It’s still there, thank goodness.
Glancing around, confusion filled me. It was the high school I went to, but it was blue and black instead of red and white. I noticed that people, er, teenagers were crowding me, trying to get my attention.
It was disorienting.
It was overwhelming.
It was suffocating.
I needed out!
Taking off at a sprint, I turned several hallways and eventually ran face-first into the locker I share with my best friend, locker 344. Panicked breaths left me as I looked down, my vision was woozy as I took in the high school’s cheerleading uniform I was wearing. I slowly raised a hand to my hair, it was in a regal pixie cut. As my hand fell, I caught a glimpse of onyx painted nails.
I was a stereotypical popular cheerleader.
The exact opposite of who I am.
I found an alternate reality.
WARNINGS: NONE
This was a 10 minute exercise I had to do in my creative writing class, I had fun with it. Not my best work, but not my worst either for only having 10 minutesI found a scraped door tucked away within the recesses of the mega closet in my house. I’ve always wondered what was behind the door, but I never had the courage to open it. Until now. My hand twitches from nerves as I twisted the doorknob open, my breath stuttering. Swinging the door open, I bolt in and slam the door shut.
I look back.
It’s still there, thank goodness.
Glancing around, confusion filled me. It was the high school I went to, but it was blue and black instead of red and white. I noticed that people, er, teenagers were crowding me, trying to get my attention.
It was disorienting.
It was overwhelming.
It was suffocating.
I needed out!
Taking off at a sprint, I turned several hallways and eventually ran face-first into the locker I share with my best friend, locker 344. Panicked breaths left me as I looked down, my vision was woozy as I took in the high school’s cheerleading uniform I was wearing. I slowly raised a hand to my hair, it was in a regal pixie cut. As my hand fell, I caught a glimpse of onyx painted nails.
I was a stereotypical popular cheerleader.
The exact opposite of who I am.
I found an alternate reality.