Springtime Miracle ( chapter one)

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   Everything started when my sister bought me a story book for my ninth birthday. I did not know what it feels like to enjoy having a deep imagination until I started reading the story.

   The more I tell you about that specific moment when I started the book, the more damaged I feel due to the guilt of revealing the story. As a result, it is pretty short and open.

   For a boy who was not used to reading books or a person who came to despise reading books, the story was an absolute miracle. I am having trouble expressing feelings of the time of engagement of the story. Just know this and this only: when I finished half of the book, all of my humble, childish thoughts were sank into oblivion. I was like a boy who after long hours of waiting finally finds the way to ecstasy or a person who realizes why he or she is created.

    I even remember times when I did some drawback activities to freeze the time  in my mind to slow the process of reading the story, so as to stop the story from being finished. It was completely unbearable for me to come to and or put an end to my beloved fantasy world.

   The period of time in which I was totally engaged in the story is memorable even now, long after the start, for I can say I had the best time of my life. The degree to which I was involved in the story was so immense that days and nights, from twilight to sunset, I prayed, asked, and begged consecutively to appear in that world of fantasy. I would not stop begging since I was completely certain of the truthfulness of the phenomenon.

   Dear God, even now when I think about it, an ambiguous emotion of that world tickles my brain. It seems as though I lost it.

   A boy seeking to revive the feeling of “childhood nonsense.”

   Years have passed since that lifetime experience, and I have not been able to pinpoint that specific moment of infinite unconsciousness.

    I just know know that sometimes it is better to be in your own self, to be far from any Madding Crowd, to live in your fantasy world even though a lot of people dictate to you “YOU are stuck in your childhood memories.”

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14 thoughts on “Springtime Miracle ( chapter one)”

  1. This is a fascinating post that leaves me with so many questions! What storybook did your sister give you? Why exactly do you feel guilty about “revealing” the story, and what exactly do you mean by recealing?

    I completely understand the feeling of getting lost in a fictional world and wanting nothing more than to be able to live in that world instead of the one we were born into.

    Keep writing about this experience! I would love to learn more about it. Also, if you’re interested, check out my first weekly writing prompt at http://bit.ly/QTWeek1.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. First, Thank you so much for ur warm and friendly feedback . I am certainly grateful. Second, regarding ur question of guilt , I have to tell u that whenever I wanted to share my deep tenderness of the fantasy world which u just read, I feel like getting all the fun out of it, as I mentioned in the story Somethings are supposed to be hidden in ur life . When you reveal the story to other people , you don’t feel the same as before. It’s like the time when a kid has one special candy bar and he brags about it , but as soon as every other kid starts to have the same candy bar , he doesn’t feel so special and unique.
      I hope I answered ur question.
      Can’t wait to have more comments from you…

      Liked by 2 people

  2. It was superb and also has kept me in some sort of a suspense! What is amazing is that you wrote about the story and kept the story hidden simultaneously. 😍

    Liked by 2 people

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