Producing Literary text - Descriptive writing ( formative )

And here it goes again, no one wants to talk to me because I am the weird kid. The kid that has no parents. The kid who is scared to get too close to anyone because he is afraid of losing them. Just the kid everyone hates.

So, after school, I decided I wanted to come here.

The one place I know no one will judge me for being me. The one place I feel safe. This castle has fresh, minty air which makes it refreshing to breathe in, so I feel much better when I am here.

This place is beautiful, grand, and it's like a castle, it is kind of like someone important would live here. However it is an old one. It just has this one grand entrance. It has rocky stair case made of stone which you can climb and still not feel tired.

On top of the staircase, you can see a breath talking view. It is definitely on of the most beautiful views I have ever seen.

I am guessing this is the grand entrance of a castle was made centuries ago possibly in the medieval times. I think this because when I look at it, it kind of looks like those times of the sword, of armies with their philosophy of plunder, this castle would be a safe place, my fortress.

I would dream of, of the time I lived together with the other soldiers. That's how I would survive, just everyone needing one another. From the fletcher to the baker, we were the castle, we were the heartbeats within the rock.

I just would have loved it so much. It kind of reminds me of the 19th century. When there were no phones, no social media, no worldwide pandemic, no technology, no TVs.

Just one simple life. No worries. A place where no one would judge me for an orphan. I place no would care that I am an orphan.

That just sounds like the dream, does it not?

And it turns out my parents are revealed to be alive — and also the mastermind behind the framing of their parents, for their own “deaths.”