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Entry Ninety-Four - A Mind Door Leading to a Snowy Castle |
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I've had a thought. My memories from when I was little have been spotty at best, as most peoples' are, but there are a few of them that are a bit odd. I was an odd kid, though.
One in particular is about my imaginary friend. Most kids think up one. I never made one until the thought occurred to me that lots of kids make up imaginary friends, right? That's normal. Why didn't I have one? Maybe I should do that too. After all, I only had two close friends at that point in elementary school. And I wanted to be like most kids.
But with that reasoning, I wasn't able to make a unique imaginary friend. I had my stuffed animals for that ((although, this too usually happened because I believed that most kids did that as well so I should too)). So I imagined up another me, like a twin. We did things together occasionally. Not often. Only when I remembered her/me, or I thought of her/me. We were still essentially the same person, so it never really bothered me that I forgot or ignored her/me.
One day, for no reason at all, I decided that I (A.) was bored of having her around and (B.) should send her away. Of course, that still felt a bit cruel to me. Banishing someone/something just because I was bored of it? So I imagined that I was sending her off to an all-girl's boarding school in Siberia until we grew up. Two things to note: I believed that Siberia was this entirely frozen wasteland where it always snowed, somewhere in Russia, AND, I was pretty into Harry Potter at that time. The result was a dark ((nighttime, probably)) open expanse of snow with a castle in the distance, warm golden light glowing in the windows.
I stood in my living room, the fire in the hearth to my left and the sofa in front of and to my side. I think it may have been Christmastime, and perhaps the tree with lights off in the corner next to the fireplace. I reached my right hand forward and grasped an imaginary doorknob, my eyes and my mind not "seeing" anything at that moment. You know, how you can imagine things and sometimes "see" them? I turned the knob and opened the door.
This time, I imagined that a cold wind blew past me as it swung open, flakes of snow whooshing into my face. I saw the doorframe and door then, the golden knob, the snowy landscape, the darkness, and then the near-distant shadowed castle. I took my imaginary friend's hand and smiled at "her", and then let her walk into the portal to another land. I had in my mind the thought that I'd see her again, perhaps when she and I were both older, in or after highschool, and we'd swap stories and laugh and such, looking much older and mature than we/I were/was right then. I waved goodbye, imagining she did the same, and then closed the invisible door, which disappeared.
This memory, along with a handful of others, is something that I remember more clearly than other blurred memories. Like a snippet of a song that you remember and replay in your head, but everything on either side of the snippet is blurred or out of focus. I find some significance with it; it's a special memory. I want to tell people (my friends) about this, too, but it would sound weird to them, right? I'm excited and nervous to hear their reactions, although in reality I think it wouldn't go as well as I wish it would. Which is my dilemma! I might just do it anyway, but timing is key!
--Ty
 Ty Gwynnia · Mon Jun 23, 2014 @ 08:46am · 0 Comments |
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