The Rolling Hills | Teen Ink

The Rolling Hills

October 24, 2014
By Frankman BRONZE, Welsberg, Iowa
Frankman BRONZE, Welsberg, Iowa
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I wake up, basking in the sunlight feeling the overwhelming warmth as the rays touch my skin, I feel like I had just awoken from a very deep sleep when I stammer upon my feet, bracing myself on my knees. I look around, spotting the beautiful flowing waterfalls, vast plains of grass rolling over hills that extend farther than my eyes can see. “This feels like heaven” I say. The view astonishes me and I get such a invigorating feeling of never wanting to look away. Then it dawns on me, this is only one direction. I turn around and start searching my surroundings with excitement, wondering what else such a beautiful place could hold, what other wonders that could be offered to me by such a place. I see the starting of a stone paved road, almost like cobblestone extending to my right, and I feel the overwhelming need to follow it to see to what other places this road can take me.


Embracing my adventurous side I follow this road to see where it can take me, walking and walking, searching and searching as I come up on a stranger. This stranger is walking on the adjacent side of the road, towards me, he is an old man, but he seems very limber and fit for his age. Intrigued I ask him “What is this place?”


The man just smiles and points down the road behind him, in the direction I was originally walking. Not completely understanding I walk down this stone paved road in my original direction to see what was down there, now even more intrigued. I walked on. Walking and walking. The  scenery hasn't changed from beautiful rolling hills but its not like I'm complaining. This place is beautiful. Tired, I stop to rest, lay down on the ground, and sit there for a while. I start thinking “How did I get to this place?” and “why and I here?” Questions I cant answer. But then it hits me. All these memories started flooding back to me, The  battle, the astonishing  pain of loss, the gruesome field on many of my legion had been cut down, but mainly the most defined memory was of the sword that had pierced my heart. I saw the tip plunge towards me, the blade slashed open my skin, the force broke my ribs, and the blade stabbed my heart. I felt excruciating pain, I felt darkness, I felt death.


As I came to from this startling reenactment, I looked around again. I saw that the road ended right next to me, leading to nowhere. The hills were beautiful, as always. The rivers that ran made the sound of peace. As I peered at the hills I said to myself. “Heaven. Heaven indeed.”



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