My Own World

At times I find myself drifting into my own world. When I pull a book out of my tall, yellow bookshelf I always wander to the same welcoming yet quiet room in my house. Our living room is home to one our most comfortable, but also one of our oldest chairs, and looks out at our backyard filled with green grass, trees, and beautiful flowers. This worn-in chair provides comfort and warmth on rainy days, and is a familiar embrace when I need an escape. The cream colored sides of the chair seem to wrap around me and protect me. Though more than just the chair, books provide me with my own special place. I can dream of a different life when I read books. The stories can be magical or mysterious, romantic or horrific. No matter what the content, I can always escape into a different world. I can use my imagination and put myself in someone else’s shoes or a character’s position. While reading I picture myself wandering through an unfamiliar forest or an exotic jungle, or walking up the steps in a castle, making my way to meet prince charming. I see myself sprinting down a soccer field as I compete in a championship game while the crowd around me cheers. A good book can pull me away from reality for hours. Sometimes I completely forget about time. Depending on the setting and the storyline, I drift off into different lives. Most books completely captivate me. Even if I find that I don’t enjoy the story that I’m reading, I hate setting books down. I like to give every story a chance, and most often I end up finishing every book I read, even if it’s dull. Books allow me to use my imagination and dream while I’m awake. They provide me with an escape out of reality, and my own world.