Secret Garden, Related Text, Into the World
Creative writing-belonging
I was awaked by the aromatic smells of India, the smells of coconut and vanilla filled my nose, the sweet warm air made me feel so at home. I slowly opened my eyes and sunlight poured into my room, making its way down my body, giving me warmth I roll over and I am greeted with the captivatingly beautiful sight of our garden, colours of green, red, blue, orange and purple fill my eyes, everything here is so amazing, it is all making the fact that we have to leave so much harder. I hear papa steps slowly becoming louder as he reaches my door, i quickly scurry under the covers, i just want to stay here forever, with him, this is my home, where i belong. Why must papa go to battle? Why couldn't i just stay here, id be just as safe? Why must i go to school in America? All these thoughts flooded my tiny head, making it hurt, i knew as we left i might never see my home again. As we arrive in New York, i peered out the car window, everything was quite exciting. The sights are so different, the city is filled with tall grey buildings, fraught with any wildlife, the air reeks of smoke and there are people rushing about everywhere. I question papa why it is so different, he explains to me that not nowhere is the same, everywhere has to be different so everyone can feel like they belong. We pull up to my new home, my mothers old boarding school, where she attended when she was my age. It was a tall dark green building that towered over us, tall black steeples sat on the top of the building, anxiety rushed through my body and i grabbed papas hand, he squeezed it back in reassurance, i knew by that squeeze he meant everything was going to be fine. As we stepped out of the car, my eyes scanned the front garden, they stopped when i saw a little girl sweeping the leaves. She was so frail, as if a tiny gush of cold wind on this winters day could blow her away, she looked about 9 or 10 and was wearing pale ragged clothes , no girl this young could have
I was awaked by the aromatic smells of India, the smells of coconut and vanilla filled my nose, the sweet warm air made me feel so at home. I slowly opened my eyes and sunlight poured into my room, making its way down my body, giving me warmth I roll over and I am greeted with the captivatingly beautiful sight of our garden, colours of green, red, blue, orange and purple fill my eyes, everything here is so amazing, it is all making the fact that we have to leave so much harder. I hear papa steps slowly becoming louder as he reaches my door, i quickly scurry under the covers, i just want to stay here forever, with him, this is my home, where i belong. Why must papa go to battle? Why couldn't i just stay here, id be just as safe? Why must i go to school in America? All these thoughts flooded my tiny head, making it hurt, i knew as we left i might never see my home again. As we arrive in New York, i peered out the car window, everything was quite exciting. The sights are so different, the city is filled with tall grey buildings, fraught with any wildlife, the air reeks of smoke and there are people rushing about everywhere. I question papa why it is so different, he explains to me that not nowhere is the same, everywhere has to be different so everyone can feel like they belong. We pull up to my new home, my mothers old boarding school, where she attended when she was my age. It was a tall dark green building that towered over us, tall black steeples sat on the top of the building, anxiety rushed through my body and i grabbed papas hand, he squeezed it back in reassurance, i knew by that squeeze he meant everything was going to be fine. As we stepped out of the car, my eyes scanned the front garden, they stopped when i saw a little girl sweeping the leaves. She was so frail, as if a tiny gush of cold wind on this winters day could blow her away, she looked about 9 or 10 and was wearing pale ragged clothes , no girl this young could have