Magic inside my closet

When I was little I never believed I had monsters under my bed, I did, however, believe I had magic inside my closet.

Every day was an new adventure, as for in the darkness of the night, when everyone was sure I was fast asleep, my magic closet would take me to China and beyond.

All I had to do was step inside and in an instant it would teleport me to a whole new world. If I close my eyes I can still see the colors around me as I twirled in wonder, the long pavements, the things happening all at once around me, everything so new, so different, so interesting!

I’d always travel alone, for some reason, despite being the social butterfly I was back then, but I was never lonely. There was no fear, despite how far away I would travel, no worries about when or if I would come back, there was just excitement and anticipation.

I’d never remember how I would get back, though I imagine it would be just as magical. The memories that remained were always the ones of departing my home and arriving to a new place, with unlimited possibilities.

My brother, older and always rational, tried to prove over and over again that I was lying, that it just wasn’t possible, but I didn’t care about his logic, or his intentions to dismiss what I knew was true.

Things were different all those years ago, I was so confident back then, so sure. Life hadn’t got in the way yet. I didn’t care about what made sense, what could be proven or what they said, all I believed was myself. 

I wasn’t lying, there was indeed magic in my bedroom, I just didn’t realize that the magic wasn’t inside my closet, but inside myself.