(# 1, 2, & 5)
I normally don’t
travel that often, in fact I haven’t even been outside of Canada. The only
places I have ever travelled to we’re Quebec and Manitoba. Both times I have
travelled were to see my family, and weirdly enough, most of my family lives in
Quebec, but yet I barley had enough time to see them. However with Manitoba,
only a few relatives live there and I had lived there for quite a couple months.
I was fairly young when I had gone to Manitoba, so there was little I
remembered about my trip. However, I did remember a couple things, and one of
them being a peculiar bench. My memory of this bench grows fainter and fainter
with each year, but it somehow still stays fairly close with me. My relatives
in Manitoba lived in an old decaying historic house, which they had tried to
restore years ago, but had failed to do so. Whenever they attempted to get any
work done on the house, their work was interrupted abruptly. With this there
were many parts of the house that were coming undone or seemed unfinished.
There were nails glass in places there shouldn’t be nails and glass, so it was
no place for a child to play in. At the time I had gone over there I was six. I
was also known to be hyperactive, tend to get bored easily, curious, and
adventurous. Unfortunately, we were very far away from the nearest city or
town, and our neighbors were quite a long while away so I didn’t have many
friends to play with, so I normally had to play by myself. I didn’t mind this
so much, but I tended to get bored after a while of this so I was always
seeking something new to do. I normally played in the fields, playing pretend
games of hunting or exploring.
One day In the
middle of an explore game, I had gone out a little too far in the fields that
day and realized that I had hit a rather large forest. I was just on the edge
of the forest and was deciding as to whether or not I should take my
adventuring game to new heights. I remembered earlier that my mother told me
not to enter this forest on the account that she couldn’t see me and that no
one knew what lived in these forests, not even my relatives that had lived
close enough to this forest for years knew what was in here. I knew my
inevitable fate if I entered here, I would surely get in trouble, and wouldn’t
even be able to make the first step off the front porch, but I had to. I had to
see what was in this forest. As I entered it, I felt as if the world was slowly
caving in on me. There were so many trees. The forest was so dense that the
canopy up above had left no room for daylight; it felt as if it was a different
world. I felt overwhelmed and scared not knowing where I was going, but at the
same time I got an eerie sense that I wasn’t alone. There were trees
everywhere. There was no escape from these trees. I felt as if these trees were
purposely trying to gang up on me, purposely trying to gang up on me. I was
constantly thinking to myself how awful this idea was and I should’ve listened
to my mother. I was trying to find my way out of this darkening nightmare when
I came across a small patch of land. I thought that I was slowly finding my way
out when I realized just past this patch was more and more trees, no luck was
insight. As a juvenile six year old, I began to cry, but stopped shortly after
when I saw it.
All I had seen
for what seemed was days was a never ending vision of trees. Suddenly, a carved
baby blue bench appeared out of the crowd. However, this bench was no ordinary
bench, this bench was beautiful. You could tell how old and how long this bench
had been left alone in this forest by its weathering. It was painted an almost
baby blue color and had engraving marks all over it. On the back on the bench
there was beautiful spiral work, as well as spiral shaped arms. On the sides
there were engraved flowers, almost like roses, as well as the most intricate
lattice work. There were many paint chips and cracks and some of the bottom
paneling had fallen off, but I still found it incredibly beautiful. I saw the
beauty of decay in this bench. I felt the need to sit down on it, but the
weathering of this bench was so bad that I knew I would break it and fall
through the seat. It had survived many harsh winters and smoldering summers. I
didn’t know specifically how long this bench had been left alone here for, but
I did know it had been there for a very extensive time. I felt incredibly sad
at the fact that no one could see this bench’s beauty like I did. I knew that
for the longest times, only the trees had been able to admire the bench’s
beauty, however I knew that trees aren’t the greatest at expressing their
feelings, seeing as they have no mouths. I wanted the whole world to see its
beauty! I wanted this bench to finally be admired for what it really was. At
the time I felt as if I was staring at this bench for what seemed as hours. I
felt as if I was weirdly enough, developing a connection to this bench, as if
it was speaking to me, no crying out to me. Crying out to me how it wanted to
feel appreciated, how it was desperate to feel not alone. With the never ending
amount of tress, it seemed as if the bench was not alone, however, crowds are
not company. I wasn’t just lost in this never ending forest, but in thought as
well. However, suddenly this thought was interrupted.
I heard my
mother worried but angrily call my name, telling me to get home. Soon my mind
had started to clear. I tried to hurryingly follow her voice, running as fast
as I could so I could get out of this maze. Soon I was getting closer and
closer to the forest’s edge, and the forest was becoming clearer, so was my
mind. I soon was out of the never ending darkness, now out on the fields. I ran
as fast as I could across the fields to my mother. When I reached her, she gave
me a huge hug, relieved that I was alright. But soon this relief passed her,
and anger set in. I tried to tell her about what I had seen, but she wouldn’t
listen to me. Her anger had full clouded her. I was immediately told to go in
my room, and surely stay there until what seemed to be the end of time. Later
that night I thought about the bench again, remembering all of the now dulled
details of the engraved markings, remembering the soft baby blue paint,
remembering how beautiful I had seen it as. I felt bad that it had to sit out
there, alone in the dark. I was scared of the dark, and I still am now at
times, so I wondered if it felt scared as well. I knew I needed to go back
there.
The next morning
I had snuck out of the house to go visit the bench again, this time with a
camera so I could show everyone its beauty, and it could finally be
appreciated. I searched and searched and searched, unable to find the bench
again. It was just tree after tree after tree, again and again. I searched of
it for what seemed to be an eternity. I felt so disappointed in myself that I
couldn’t find it again. I wanted to see this bench just one more time, but I
knew it would never happen. It was overwhelmingly sad to think that no one ever
got to appreciate its beauty, but then it came to me; I had appreciated its
beauty! Joy then overcame me. Finally, someone had truly appreciated its beauty
for what it really was.
