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There was a place

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There was a place July 2002 Catherine Rose There was a place I used to go. I discovered it some time ago now. It must have been about three years ago, one hot summer evening. I remember as if it was yesterday. I had got home from school after athletics practice only to be greeted by screams and shouts of my parents. They had always argued. Since as long as I can remember there has never been one day where there haven't been harsh words thrown across a room, directed to wound the other person. Today was no different. I could hear Mum crying and Dad shouting to put across his point in the kitchen. The atmosphere was so tense. I didn't want to stay and listen because I could tell I'd be asked an opinion on who was right and I would have to take sides. So I quietly wandered upstairs. I walked into my small room and flung my bag onto my unmade bed. My room was tiny and cramped. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and my desk was shoved up right next to the wardrobe, just so my bed could fit in the strangely oblong room. ...read more.


There was a small bank on which I had landed. There were daisies covering the ground, blending with the long grass. On either side of me were over grown rose bushes and sweet peas growing up the fence. The soft pink of the sweet peas contrasted with the brilliant magenta of the roses. I had never been anywhere more beautiful. Around the small lake were oak trees, shading the delicate water lilies upon the calm waters. Their boughs stretched far and reflected images, along with the pale pink dusky sky, onto the fresh water. The lake itself was fantastic. The water was so clear that I could see the smooth pebbles on the bottom with tiny golden fish darting over them. The lake was not covered in algae but masked with exquisite, elegant water lilies. There were bright turquoise dragonflies resting upon them, reflecting rainbow colours to my eyes. There was no way to get round the lake because of the dense oak trees, but as I gazed across, I could see steps from the water, leading up to a flowered arch. It looked as if it could be a gateway to heaven. ...read more.


I watched; the raindrops dangling off the roses and the lightening behind the tree. This was my last visit to my special place. The arguments between my parents had got worse. I had spent the last 3 years upstairs in my room, or over the fence in my secret garden. About a year ago they stopped sleeping in the same room. It was clear they didn't love each other anymore. I started to notice this because now she didn't even apologise after arguments and they never kissed before Dad went to work. My family was falling apart. So now, three years since I discovered the peaceful place behind the garden, we were leaving. As I sat on a cardboard box in my room, I gazed wistfully out of the window, over the fence to the dazzling rosebud garden and arch covered in bright green leaves, ready for when the flowers would bloom. This was my last glance. I walked out of my room and down the stairs. I walked into the front garden and slowly into the car. I looked up and saw the For Sale sign stamped into the ground in front of my house. It would no longer be a place I would go. It is now the place I used to go. ...read more.

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