It is bright; it is warm. It's full of the love; that I yearn. It is a place, where I belong; it is a place, within a song. A place with green hills, and meadows galore. A place that I'd dreamt of, many times before. When I shut my eyes, I fly through the storm. I land near the tree, that makes my heart soar. While pink flowers blossom, the tree branches sway; I picture a place, from another day. I open my eyes, and I drift back alone. But before, I didn't realize, There's no place like home.
Stuck in an alternate reality. One where time stops moving and I easily drift off into thought. A world where there are no other people. Just the ghosts of the ones I used to know, or even people I sometimes called “friend.” There are no friends now. Just me. It is quiet. There is nothing to do. Just lie there in half-sleep. I can't sleep. When I try to drift off into a happy dream, there is nowhere to go. I have forgotten everyone I once loved and fought for. I don't know why I am here. I am not helping anything or making life better. I don't know what my purpose is. Maybe, I don't have one. Maybe no one does. Maybe there are other people like me that don't know either. Suddenly, I have found my purpose. To find others who don't know why they are here and help show them why the world needs them, to help them find their purpose.
“Ouch!” I landed at the bottom of the hill. My leg was throbbing! I must of hit on a rock on the way down. I looked up the hill, and there they were, sticking their tongues out at me, laughing to themselves. I turned to see what was behind me. There was a little entrance into the dark woods. I turned back to shout at them, for pushing me down, but they were gone. Great. I was stuck by myself, at the bottom of a hill, in a foreign country, with a probably broken, swelling leg. I decided not to climb up the hill, since there was probably no hope in that. There was no other place to go except forward. I hesitantly stepped into the moist, leafy green. My leg stung as I hobbled forward, but I knew there was no other way out. I had only walked a few feet into the woods when I heard, “Annie! Come Back! Wait for us!” I turned to find the rest of my team behind me. I guess they hadn’t forgotten me after all.
“Go outside, get some fresh air.” she told me. “I’ll make you some lemonade.” I slowly loped over to the door. My dry hands gripped the cold handle and pulled. It was stuck. My feet were slipping on the floor as I yanked the life out of me. The handle wouldn’t budge. I called to my sister in the next room, unpacking another box. She came over and gracefully pulled the door open. Perfectly, just like everything else she does. Her silver hair flowing behind her. Outside, the wind was whipping through the swaying trees. The tall, brown-green grass was whistling around me. I walked to the top of the cliff covered in sand. I ran my finger along the cold, sea-softened wood railing that separated me from the crashing waves below. The fresh, salty, ocean air was carried through the wind and blew up into my mouth. I could taste the salt from the ocean on my tongue even though I was many feet above the crashing, tumbling waves.