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The problem with this is that there are simply too many things to choose from. I would go with I'm just throwing around ideas But the person has to have a reason to keep what happened to them a secret I just re-read you're question and you already have the secret world thing! Be very careful not to plagiarize ideas accidentally, but if you read Kafka's one-page short story, "Before the Law", you may get some ideas. You can find English translations of the story on line by entering the names of the author and title into google. One learns to write well by reading the works of the masters. My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened, as I stood in front of the glow it came from a door, but its was more than a glowing door, it had blood dripping down the side of it, and it was floating in mid air, in a corner of the basement.
How did it get there? I slowly opened the door. The hand belonged to a troll; while I was unconscious he had dragged me in to a new world called Newton. Thankfully a young slave was out of the castle, getting some wood for the fireplace, he was chopping the trees down with an axe when he herd me plead and cry for help, he came rushing to me, he wacked the troll five times in the head. The troll fell crashing to the floor dead.
At that very moment the door disappeared, I was stuck in the land of Newton, I was scared and worried as I had nowhere to go, but the slave offered me a home in the palace working with him, I agreed along as I had a roof over my head. I never worked that hard before and started to miss my home, where I would do nothing and talk horrible to my parents, just to get what I wanted. Eventually my eyes widened when one day I made soup for the queen, she thought it was acceptable, but because it was watery she chucked it at me and laughed,.
I was scared and thought about my home were I use to do that to my mother, I felt hurt and started to cry, I wished I was back home and ran to my room and locked my self away from the world. I accepted the offer and jumped up and down, up and down with enthusiasm, as I could not wait to work with real knights.
'The door slammed to be opened again' The door slammed shut never to be opened again? Nothing can be done now. It all started on a normal Friday morning. The Priest finished off his final words, I tried to savor them knowing that after today I wanted to forget it all; not because I didn't care, it was quite the opposite.
Three years later Three years later I became very well known with the army, as I fought many battles with great courage and skill, you expect me to be happy, as I made new friends, got a good reputation. While the night was long, while the sky was overcast and whiles the sea waves roared and smashed against any boats that came in its path, I was covering my face with a red silk cloth, trying to hide from Prince Adam who was looking after the throne, while his mother and father took a break.
Adam had short hair, he had big green eyes that sparkled when the sun reflected its light on to them, it shines so bright and beautiful, and it looks like the stars in the night sky. I had strong and painful feelings for Adam, feeling I had never felt before or since. But like a dam that barriers had been shut for too long, my tears finally came. It would be a big lie if I said I never felt sad or angry. But I always stashed my feelings away.
Feelings made life difficult. Being numb had become a way of life, somehow.
She had mentioned divorce, and wanted nothing to do with us. Maybe we had indeed caused her too much hurt. Maybe her departure would do everybody good. She had made up her mind, and nobody could dissuade her. There was nothing at all which could appease her, except for one thing - divorce.
And she had made up her mind. Nothing could stop her now. I heard her packing her things, and I walked slowly to her room, lingering as I drew closer to the room. My hand hesitated on the door knob for what seemed like ages before I finally found the guts to open the door.
Through a little slit, I saw her clutching her mother's photograph and moaning away. I thought she was long over that. But she wasn't, and I was surprised. Then I understood why all these had happened. He didn't believe in afterlife and thought that the money she spent on her in her afterlife was an extravagant sum, something which we could ill afford.
She had missed her mother, and therefore wanted to do something which could help her to connect with her mother.
I realised it, but I realised it too late. I closed the door gently, and sat back on the chair. I now understood why she had to do the things that she did - for she grieved too much.
And I felt jealous of Grandma. I never loved her, yet somebody else loved her so much. Somebody had stolen her love from me. And that was why I cried every night thereafter - because her love was endless, and yet I had none of it……. Community General Fiction Poetry.
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