I come from the forest surrounding my grandparents' humble house. It always explodes with life. The birds whistle their tunes as they gracefully circle the trees while the cows moo in the fields. The forest was my escape from reality. It was there that my imagination came to life. I knew the forest like the back of my hand. My favorite place in the whole forest was this little hill in the middle of a meadow deep in the forest. I was drawn to it like a moth to light. It was my little secret, no one else knew, not even my brothers who tried to follow me through the forest. Even though this place is magical and wonderful, a terrifying thing happened in my innocent wonderland. As I headed towards my meadow I noticed that one of my brothers was following me through the thick forest. Instead of going to my little hideout, I decided to go deeper into the forest to get him off my trail. After walking for a few more minutes I turn around and notice that he's no longer there. Hoping he would give up by returning to the cottage, I continued back to my meadow. We say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay After staying there for a few hours, I started walking home. I was greeted by my mother when I returned. Frantically she asked me if my brother was with me. Rolling my eyes I said "no, why?". He immediately ran out of the cottage into the woods screaming his name. I ran after her realizing that he hadn't returned home after the trip to the woods. Running through the forest, deeper than I've ever gone before. I came across a ruined house, larger than my grandparents' cottage but smaller than our house. It was old and weathered. I approached cautiously, worried that wild animals might be hiding. There was a loud crash inside that would have sent me running in the opposite direction, but a small cry of laughter echoed through the woods. It was familiar, they were my brothers. No longer being cautious, I ran inside and found him covered in dirt playing with the toys the old owners had left behind. I picked it up and brought it home to my mother. Later that day I asked my great-grandparents about the house in the woods. They told me they never saw it or anyone near it the entire time they lived here. Offering to take them home, they refused and said some things are best kept secret.