By Elise Flagg, TIWP Student
The road splits. On one side, daisies line the dirt brown path. The path is worn out with footprints all over, big and small. The sky is blue with clouds so perfect they could be painted. Birds chirp their so-called happy melodies. The other side is gloomy. Clouds fill the sky, casting a dark shadow on the path. But even with the shadow, you can see that not one person has stepped on the path. The path is in perfect condition. Weeds line it, and no animal is in sight. No chirping, no rays of sun. I choose this path. I choose to be unique. I choose to be the first footsteps on this path. With each step I take, the weeds turn into arrangements of some of the brightest flowers, not just daisies, but roses, tulips, sunflowers, and more. The clouds part after a while to reveal a rainbow. The blue sky is filled with birds of all types, just flying because they can, watching the world from above. They are the only ones who know the other path is a dead end, and that mine, which is untouched, leads to a waterfall that looks over the whole world—a waterfall with gleaming water running down each crevice of each rock. I feel the power of the water and dare to dream. I jump off the edge, feeling the wind of adrenaline pass by. I feel my arms turn into wings of power that I use to push myself up. I find myself high up in the sky looking over both paths. I am now the bird watching over, and when I look down, I notice my footsteps have disappeared and turned into dust.