Since the dawn of time, there had always been in existence, two worlds, the one real and the other imagined; but over the years, they have grown so closely interwoven, that it has become a bit hard for children to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. And frankly, I wouldn't say that's necessary a bad thing.
Yes, to a little boy in early autumn of the year 1885, both of these two worlds was his reality; while to his mother and sisters, he had a second world which they could not understand. He lived in his imagination, and seemed always to be playing some game with imaginary companions—a game that seldom ended unhappily.
We all have our own private worlds about us, for we are more than flesh and blood, but we do not know what it is like to live in the same world as others, because they have a different mind. We see them only through a glass dimly, as through a haze, till we can see them clearly no longer.
Give it thought and you'd realize, a child lives in his own world, a dreamy little world into which the grown-up people seem to pry occasionally, when they call him by name, or speak to him seriously. But he sees them also from outside, as he looks at things, as though they were not really there, and therefore all the more interesting to look at. It is this that makes children so attractive to us, and why we should pity those who have lost their childishness.
Anyway, much like it often is with children, the little boy's world was an enchanted place, full of mysterious beings, far too wonderful for belief. He saw fairies, and elves, and giants, walking on the hills in the moonlight; he heard talking in his garden, and felt certain that the birds sang in the trees at night, and that a white horse, with silver bridle and mane, passed across the sky sometimes, just before sunset.
He believed that dragons lived under the hill, and goblins in the forest, and that it was possible to fly, if you knew how. He imagined that fairies came out of the house at midnight, and went about the neighborhood, flying about in their tiny gilded chariots, singing to each other. The stars were fairy horses, galloping up in the air, so high that you could hardly see them.
Sometimes he dreamed of being captured by wolves in the forest, and afterwards having to fight them single-handed, and kill them. Ha! Oh yes, the boy had quite the imagination. It was quite funny and endearing to see to say the least actually.
Sadly, most parents today don't understand the importance of imagination and make belief in the life of a growing child. You see, when children imagine, they're not only simply creating other worlds, friends, and ideas, but they're actually escaping their realities at the same time!
And if the child's life was anything like the boy in question, I'd say it's better for your children to want to imagine playing with a dinosaur rather than remember their trauma of child abuse
From face value, the boy seemed rather uncanny and maybe even a tad optimistic but in reality, the truth was that he suffered dearly from his parents and siblings alike. His stepmother (wife of his late father) would often maltreat him, his stepsisters never even so much as considered him part of the family; deep down, it felt like he didn't belong in the world.
Hmm, perhaps that's why he ended up imagining his own?
Lol, I was trying to experiment with a different style of writing fiction. Forgive me if the story sucks or doesn't make sense to you. :)
Interesting this, the truth is that when a child is imagining is forging his character, his self-esteem, his vision of things. I firmly believe that it is necessary as parents to encourage the game where skills are developed, because the great challenges of the new era is that children no longer play dragons or swords, only play as puppets in front of cell phones or technological equipment. A real loss of creativity.
keep exploring this style, it looks good. 🤗🤗
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
I absolutely concur with what all you have said. More parents should encourage imagination in their children.
Thanks for the compliment. I'll see what I can do.
Greetings, @zeraton. Nice experiment. Although there comes a point when you don't know if what you're reading is fiction or thought-provoking writing about children's imagination. The other point to note is that the conflict is not resolved and the reader is left wanting to know what will happen to the child in the story.
Lol right you are! Actually, I didn't really mean the post to be a fiction. Just me casually writing how I feel I guess.
Ha! I like to think of it as suspense but in reality, i think I just got a little lazy towards the end lol XD