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My Memoir! |
Doors to New Worlds In third grade, I was a bit of what you might call a nerd. I had good grades, wore glasses, and constantly had my nose in a book. I even read soup can labels, just because I was bored. As such, I spent much of my time in the school library. I've been to different worlds, and some I found amusing, others were a bit apocalyptic. And, I've enjoyed all of them. I must say, however, that the one in which I first willingly entered was an eye opener. During one such solo excursion of the library, I stumbled upon the Warriors series written by Erin Hunter. I figured the cat on the cover was merely a metaphor as to the slyness or mischievousness of a particular character within. I could've been more wrong, but only marginally. I was quite surprised in fact that the story truly was about cats, though it was so much more than cats. No, in fact, it had the meticulous details that make up a wonderful book. As I rushed to the checkout desk, a feeling of wonder and excitement blossomed from within. When I rode the bus home I could not sit still, and I waited as patiently as an 8-year-old could. Once I reached my stop, I rushed to the front, jumped off from the top step, and ran up the driveway, bursting in through the front door, scarfed down my after-school snack, and raced to my room with the book in hand. I hurriedly climbed the ladder to the top bunk of the bed I shared with my younger brother. I sat with my back to the wall, and feet dangling over the edge. I heard my grandmother shout that dinner was ready, but I barely registered it. I was lost in the world of feral cats, who have their own beliefs and hierarchy. I felt the crisp paper beneath my fingers as I turned the pages, constantly eager to read more. I read far into the afternoon, and only when I had reached the end of the final chapter, did I put the book down. At that age, I would've been hungry, yet surprisingly I wasn't even as my eyes began to droop, and I nodded off. I woke up curled in a ball, the blankets and sheets in a circle around me. As uncomfortable as it may sound, I woke up refreshed, although slightly confused as to why I wasn't in a world of cats. Then it dawned on me, I had been in their world, but only for a brief amount of time. I realized that books were doors to new worlds, and my imagination was the key to exploring them. After this encounter with a foreign world, I read as much as I could. |