When I was seven years of age I briefly lived in a country called India for one year, which has approximately one billion people inhabiting in the vastly growing populated country. One of my favourite memories was when I visited the Taj Mahal. This memory struck me because of the visual beauty of the delicately white but sleek building that stood before me. As I felt the wind blow up against my face I could hear the tree's whisper as they laid beside the colossal building. I looked up into the sky, as I felt the sun smiling back at me with its burning heat which gave my pallid, but pale skin flakes that glistened in the sun. When I got nearer to the entrance I could feel the presence of glory, as I realised that I was coming to one of the 7 wonders in the world.
Suddenly a pretty ugly woman scurried along to us where we were standing. She was a mouse, when you looked at how tall she was. She had a crooked nose with rosy red lips, and a set of brown eyes that pierced you when you dared to look into them. "Dark, daring and dangerous", said the people who warned us about the conniving and callous guides, who would lead people astray and rob them blind and murder them. This dark but elusive tiny woman didn't look too much of a threat. Or could she be? I wondered whether or not it would be better to wander and explore the magical and marvellous building ourselves and choose to ignore the myths. However, my mother decided to ignore the myths of the "dark, dangerous and devious" guides for me, and we were then given no choice but to just trust this fragile but elusive woman.
I decided to ignore the myths myself and just try to enjoy myself. I mean isn't that what you're meant to do on holiday? She lead us to the main entrance, and it was a sight to be hold... Massive Golden doors, with crafty, ancient silver statues that shone up in the lustrous deep blue sky. I had never seen actual Gold in my life before that. The "mouse" women then slithered across to the elegant but delightful door handle and gracefully opened the doors for us to enter. Our guide eventually told us abit about her self, " allo mon appelle est isabelle and I speak very little English", this bemused us as we were confused about what she was on about. I decided that I was getting a little bit frustrated with her and decided to ask her a straight question, "Okay... nice to meet you Isabelle... just one question. Wheres the main bit to? And 'ow longs the tour gowna be?" After I had replied Isabelle looked puzzled because she probably didn't recognise my accent very well, as she continued her tour around the archaic, legendary monument.
Suddenly we reached to a smooth wooden door, to the side of the grand monument. Me and my mum looked to each other, as we questioned what was happening, but didn't have enough time to think...
Suddenly out of no where came three thugs!!! One had a white balaclava, holding a 5 inch knife, whilst the other two held mean looking guns. I tried to scream for help... but it was too late, as they slammed me across the dirty carpet, picking me up and taking me through the mysterious wooden door.
Blood was everywhere as I collapsed into unveiled darkness...
I Enjoyed reading your story. This made me want to read more, very descriptive, and allowed me to create a scene in my head.
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