January 20, 2009
By Wendy Yuan Zhang, Bronx, NY

The gargoyles leer from their high pedestals, stone creatures, strong and able to kill with one swiped of their hand. This is what you see from afar. But once you draw nearer, you can see the proud, mighty lions that majestically guard the front door.
The wooden front doors, rotten and dusty with age, give a sigh, then creak open. You can almost imagine a young, lively butler standing there, his arm holding a plate of fruits, the other taking your coat.
From your first glance, spider webs coat the area, and the once beautiful stone floor is chipped and scratched, its vivid colors worn away.
But all of the sudden, you imagine a lovely princess dancing to her own tune on a brightly colored new floor. The crystal staircase sweeps down so she can dance to the top of the stairs, behind the sparkling diamond chandelier, and on top of the red velvet rug.
You dance your way, like the princess, onto the second floor, and decide to take a peek at some of the rooms. First, you peer into the princess’s own room. Her bed was once a canopy, but all that remains is a wooden skeleton. A filthy chest sits in a corner, living its glorious days, when the sun shined its rays through the window, illuminating it. The chest once held the princess’s toys.
You imagine a little girl, chipper and pretty, waking up in the canopy bed that completely enveloped in her quilt. She yawns once, and then throws off her covers and runs, in her nightgown, to the chest in the corner. She flings open the top of the chest, and takes out her most treasured rag doll, all worn out and tattered, but you can see that that its been loved and cared for. The little girl sings a tuneless tune and pushes the windows open. You see the little birds on the trees, chirping away.
Suddenly, you’ve had enough, and you walk out of the grand castle. You turn around for one last look, and you imagine, just for one second, a little blond princess, waving.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer