A Little Girl's Story Of How Fantasy Changed Her Life
A Lost Little Girl
Once there was a little girl who was lost. She felt alone and sad. Like no one understood her, or even cared to try. Then she watched a movie and found herself in a galaxy far, far away. She picked up a book and watched as the man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed. She fought dragons and saved princesses and witnessed the destruction of galaxies, the rise of empires and she wept as Artax died.
As she grew older, her world got even wider. She was told to run by a madman in a box. She joined a fellowship of man and dwarf and elf and hobbit and carried the weight with them. She suffered with Peter at the top of his tower, waiting patiently through the years. She was a part of Roland's Ka-tet and grieved with them and for them as much as she cheered their victories. She fought zombies in Raccoon City and led plumbers through pipes into strange new worlds.
And in this way she found herself. That lost little girl. She became the heroin of a thousand stories and the savior of a thousand worlds. And it was good. It saved her.
Little Girl Grown
As she grew and her reality changed she no longer had to find refuge in these places. She no longer had to hide from the real life Boogie Man in worlds woven of words and pictures and sound. Coming together inside her mind like a tapestry of gold and silver and warm. As she grew older, as she married and became a mother, as she changed from frightened child to strong adult, she no longer used these portals to other worlds as a means of escape. They had always been like a way to get home. Or where she considered home. The safe places of worlds beyond her imagination.
As she got older she thought of them more as vacations. She could wrap herself in the arms of her husband, a good man, the best of men, and open a book to meet old friends. To fight old demons. To visit old worlds, or new. She could pick up a controller as her children play at her feet and she could fight new battles, save new princesses, keep entire kingdoms from falling into the wrong hands. Or she could lose herself in the movies that played out these adventures and lives before her eyes. She could lose herself in them just for the sake of doing it.
She took their hands, her husband and children, and introduced them to worlds beyond their own. She showed them the way to Mordor and together they felt the feels as Sam offered his heart to Frodo as the river rushed behind them, just before the curtain fell. She stowed away with them on a space pirate's ship, teaching them the words of the song of the man they call Jayne. She ran away with them to Tatooine and fought with them amongst the Jedi and a funny golden droid. She let them hear the sound of the Tardis and they went traveling among all of time and space and oh, how they cried.
She gave them the gift to weave worlds around them. But not to escape to. No, not them. But to cherish. To visit. To fall in love.
Her son fell in love with space. He loved the magnitude of it. The endless depths. The incredible possibilities. The thought that it had to end somewhere, but then the impossibility of what would begin?
He befriended a kid named Ani and together they grew. He walked his path and felt his fears. He fought with Obi Wan for that kid's soul. Wishing that he could show him the way away from the Dark Side and then later rejoiced as he saw him finally come back from that place. Celebrated when he once again saved the day. Excited by his redemption. Sighed a sigh of relief and his heart was happy.
He found himself a hitchhiker. Traveling along with a simple man named Arthur Dent setting out to do the impossible. To find the meaning of life and everything. He laughed and fought and won. He carried his towel with pride and happiness. And a little part of him was not just with Arthur, but WAS Arthur. A little part of him was transformed and will forever be different. Forever be better. Because of that journey. Because of that made up man in those made up places that for him, for a short while, at least, was real.
Her daughter fell in love with a man in a big blue box. From a little shop to the battlefield of Trenzalore, and beyond, she followed him. She loved his love for Rose. Rory's love for Amy. Clara's love for what's right. And The Doctor's love for humanity. The worlds they saw, the sacrifices they made, the lives they saved. She mourned for Donna's memories and Ten's unfinished sentence. She felt the sadness and excitement of each regeneration and missed who he was as much as she loved who he became.
She found herself a student at a school for wizards. She made the best of friends with three of the unlikeliest kids and the adventures they had together! She lost herself in their world. In the magic of that place. The friendship. The belonging. The love. She fought with them, but she played with them as well. And she was happy when they were happy, sad when they were sad. And when their journey ended she mourned a little bit that it was over. But that was okay, too, because she knew in her heart of hearts that it's never really over with these kinds of things. Because all you need to do is pick up another book, put in another movie, and let your imagination hold out it's hand. And you take it. And you run.
Her husband found a place in the back seat of a '67 Chevy Impala. He shared in the brotherly love of two boys from Kansas whose dad was on a hunting trip and hadn't been home in a few days. He fought with them, and sacrificed with them. Watching as they did whatever they could to save each other. Finding solace in that brotherly commitment and friendship and kinship. That knowledge that no matter what they would always be there for each other. That they were all they really had. That they were their everything.
He fell in love with games. With characters he could be, half orc warriors who were good despite what society thought, human fighters who could take the head off of the mightiest enemy with a single sweep of his war ravaged great sword. Or even just that little metal car while everyone else fought over the dog.
He maybe didn't see that to his wife he already was that great savior of damsels in distress. That most amazing man among men who stole her heart the day he first stood before her. The day he rescued her from a life where fantasy was her escape. The day he held out his hand to her and she accepted. He was her Rory. He was her Arther Dent. He was her Han. He was her Dean and her Mulder and her Cas and her Harry. Her Rick Grimes and her Glenn. He was the righter of rights. Her light in the darkness. Her level 20 Human Fighter. He was her everything. And he always would be.
A Lucky Girl
She was a lucky girl because her life was complete. She was surrounded by the most amazing three people in the worlds. Her reality was now safe, and happy. Her reality was a good one. Their reality was fantastic. It was perhaps not perfect, but as perfect as she could have ever wished for it to be.
But fantasy was still good for them. A place that they could now go together. They could take each other's hands and jump. Or they could find a comfy corner and go alone. What better gift can a person have than the ability to visit other worlds? Journey to other lands? Far away places that they only need their imaginations for? Sometimes it's good to get lost as long as you can always come home again.
They were never afraid to yell "Geronimo!" and that was fantastic.