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A Fantasy Realm Made By Reality


Submitted by sub-zero on 2005-04-11 | Last Modified on 2006-12-10

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The heat coming from the beast gave me goose bumps. With every breath a cloud of warmth would come around me. The smell of the burning cattle would drift through the air. The burnt hair and flesh would almost cause vomiting but the sadness kept it in. Everything was gone, burnt to the ground except some of the remaining people. The surviving mothers and children were holding tight to each other crying. Their very own lives were almost taken from them. They lost their homes and all of their stock. Most of them lost their lives. With all of the tears hitting the ground it seemed as if it was raining. I could barely feel the cool breeze slipping through the ashes. The unsuspecting victims were lying all over the ground. Across in the distance the dragon’s breathing broke the air.

The beast was at the summit of the mountain. Its heart was as cold as steel and its emotions were that of Hades. It didn’t care what it had done. Nothing of the dead families scattered across the fields bothered him. None of the creatures were snacked on or even eaten in any way. This beast killed them all for pure sport. This moment will leave a mark on me for the rest of my life. I will never forget what happened on this land. This very soil has stained my mind forever. This place will leave two emotions in my heart and forever change me. There are two sentiments, one of angriness towards the flying beast and the other, sympathy towards the people that have lost. This place is my sanctuary, my freedom. Places take us away from reality giving us the ability to be who we are. They affect us and that’s why we go there.

There are other places where people would never want to be and others would cherish that moment for every second. It’s amazing how someone could see a desert with sand and nothing more and another person could see a paradise. Everyone has their own sanctuary, their place of sovereignty. People go to these places to forget their problems and relax. Christopher McDowell, a noted writer and PhD states, “This is why you can come into sanctuary carrying stress and angst, perhaps sadness and despair, and soon feel an interior sense of peace begin to salve your soul…[A sanctuary] holds a type of sacred energy that is worth honoring”. Places have the ability to significantly impact or shape our persona. In the moment, they have the ability to alter our moods and attitudes. Over time, they have the ability to mold who we are.

Over time we can count on these sanctuaries to be there in our heart. We never forget them for the rest of our lives. Gino, a published writer and nature enthusiast, states, “Not only is this place a sanctuary for wildlife, it is also one for humans—for those people who need to have a home far removed from that place called the real world”. Places can shape what kind of people we become. There are many types of areas that have their own rules. There aren’t signs posted up saying what we can and can’t do. They come with their own rules that become common knowledge to us. There are places where there are no rules.

There is a world that exists to me. It is a world where I can create whatever I want and be who ever I want to be. There are no rules except the ones that I make. It is my sanctuary, my escape. I can go there whenever I want and I am free. It is a world that I write and then become its creator. I go there when I want to escape such places as my home. That is a place that has shaped me more than any other. A home is a place that people miss when they’re gone. It is a place no one wants to be without. When I write I can escape all of the arguing in my home. All of the yelling and fights don’t exist there. I can turn the stress into a fiery beast, and all of my problems take new forms.

People generally have a place that they will never forget. It sticks in their mind as strong as a memory. When someone commits a crime and is convicted they are sent to some type of correctional facility. Those places are there to teach them the consequences of their crimes. They help shape who they can become. It isn’t supposed to be a pleasant experience where they would want to come back or even repeat a crime. In some cases they commit a crime to go back. They normally want to be there because they know nothing else. It becomes their home and their lifestyle. The correctional officers are like coaches trying to teach them something.

Coaches say channel your energy into something else. Turn it into a positive result. When I go climbing I’m using all of that compacted energy to climb. All of the stress I carry I forget when I start to climb. Everything that exists disappears and I am free. Climbing shapes my mind and physically my body. It shapes who I am and how I react. With each step of the climb there are new challenges and new holds. When I reach the crux, it tests my abilities. If I have both the strength and the technique I can pass it. I know if I can surpass the crux I should be able to complete the climb. It enhances my ability, gives me confidence and makes me stronger. Climbing is the only thing that exists while I am here. No problems, stress or even dragons can bother me.

I can become that knight, who would ride on his stallion past the poor victims. In his hand he held a silver sword with the emblem of his planet and the three moons. He knew his place and his responsibilities. The green grass that flew by below his feet turned a dark red when his sword entered the head of the beast. The skull shattered and the cracking sound echoed through the air. The dragon lay dead on the summit top. And the free climber was the one to drive the sword through. In his place he was now free just like everyone else at their sanctuaries.

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