OMGGGGGG this was seriously the best question ever. I had a story pre-written, and when I saw this question, I nearly jumped out of my seat
I wrote my story word for word. Coming home now and reading it, I can't find anything that I left out or jumbled up....
Whether or not
you guys think my story's good is a separate issue..... but considering the exam's over I'll post it here and you guys can tell me what you think
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Terapais canvas was his only retreat from the outside world he was safe inside his dreamland, cut off from the evil spirits which endlessly tortured him in his daily life. From the moment Terapai locked his door he was happy an overwhelmingly warm and loving feeling of safety swept over him; a glowing-white aura that brought infinite peace to his soul. Everything changed when he was in his fantasy land.
His door was no longer battered and old with a dull brass knob now it became over one hundred feet tall, carved boldly yet elegantly from the side of a huge oak tree; with a shining, oversized cast iron key that took every last ounce of strength in Terapais tiny frame to turn. This was where Terapai came to create to breathe life into the vivid world of colour and splendour that existed within the soul of his mind. With lovingly delicate strokes of his brush, Terapai would bring to life colours which for most people existed only within their wildest dreams. But this was no dream. It was Terapais world and no one could ever take it from him.
The tree extended countless miles upward into the sky - it kissed the heavens above. Here at dizzying altitudes, it was greeted by majestic creatures of flight with wingspans that stretched far beyond those found on Earth this was a world that adhered only to the limitless boundaries of Terapais imagination; it was his world and he loved every living creature within it. Perhaps this love was born from Terapais unrepressed ability to control every aspect of life within his fantasy dimension nothing would ever change here unless he so wished.
There was a time when nothing could ever have disturbed the serenity of Terapais dreamland. Days were filled with endless blue skies, and in the evening millions of stars graced the picturesque night sky. They stood in formation, like an army of guardians watching over Terapai and his fantasy land protecting him from the evil that lurked beyond the boundaries of this parallel universe.
Days of safety were disappearing now an evil presence was seeping into Terapais world, slowly infecting it from the inside out. Beyond the farthest reaches of this magical land, on the other side of the huge oak gateway, evil was amassing strength preparing to engulf Terapais paradise like thick, paralysing smog. This evil spirit was growing at a frightening rate, breeding feverishly like deadly bacteria. Slowly but surely, Terapais world was beginning to feel the effects of the evil presence. Cracks were appearing in the foundations of his paradise the mammoth oak door was no longer a guardian of his secret world. He was no longer safe.
Vines were encompassing the giant oak door. From all sides of the door they emerged, squeezing through the minute cracks; the ominous black digits of a demonic hand. Slowly and methodically they began to choke the life from Terapais fortress. The giant keyhole where the iron key had once sat so assuredly was now too feeling the vines wrath. They squeezed through the keyhole, falling over each other as they gasped for the sickly sweet air that had given life to so many other creatures within Terapais world.
The vines were robbing the tree of its life-force. The deep, animated brown that had breathed such life into the smooth skin of Terapais tree was now fading; withering into a dull and lifeless grey. There was a sudden chill in the air a shiver emanated from the top of Terapais head and travelled down the length of his spine, spilling out through the soles of his feet and dissipating across the floor. The evil presence had infected more than just his paradise now the long, bony fingers of the vines demonic claws were reaching out, so close to getting their poisonous grip upon Terapais tiny hands.
He knew that they were here to finally take him away; this had been a long time coming. They had come to tear him from the world that he had given life to with so many thousands of delicate and brush strokes the world that was his. Terapai saw his dreamland falling to pieces around him - each colour was gradually robbed of its energy, its radiance, its soul. Each stroke of his brush became so much more painful to complete than the one before it Terapai knew that soon, the evil spirits would clutch him too within their mighty grip, and choke every last ounce of life from his exhausted body.
Terapai was unable to find the strength within him to endure the pain any longer. The last stroke of his brush was smeared, like a bloodied and gruelling final blow, across his canvas, across his dreamland. His brush dropped to the floor with a thud - along with it went his heart, his dreams, his soul. The vines took hold of his frail little body, intertwining and contorting it as they tore him from his fantasy world, back through the giant oak door - back to the harsh reality from which he had hidden for so long.
Terapai found himself on his back, staring at the four corners of his bedroom ceiling. These four joins in the plaster were the four corners of what had now become his prison cell. They represented everything he hated about the real world the confinement, the restrictions that this motor neuron disease had forsaken him with.
Far off, Terapai could hear his world calling; pleading with him to return. It needed Terapai as much as he needed it. But it was all gone now; the dreamland was beyond his reach.
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