The blue lights illuminated the high, pink walls. Its turrets penetrated the speckled-with-stars sky. Royal drapes hung from the towers. Small, fluorescent lights were strung around the building, brightly flaunting the details: gilded edging, stone craftsmanship, and happiness. An arch stood in the middle, proudly holding the weight of the massive establishment. Grand windows were curtain closed; yet from the ground, I peered inside. Inside, where the sun really does come out tomorrow, and it’s comforting…but disregard my prediction of what I would find inside while I describe its majestic exterior in one word: perfection.
Everything about Sleeping Beauty’s Castle was sparkly and magical. It inspired me, and I let it. Its lavish decorations and particulars were refreshing. During daylight, the castle was inviting. When dark came, it was absolutely stunning: a sight seen from the entire park. Only a palace as magnificent as Aurora’s could be deemed the icon for the “Happiest Place on Earth.”
My castle is likewise perfect. It is friendly, beautiful, and happy. Visitors look up to it, and make talk of it. Because of its size and reputation, it is easily detected. The details are similar: the same gilded trims, structure, and boastful happiness. Yet, as darkness approaches, lights, too, are shined upon my castle. As with Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, mine also lacks light within. Its curtains are closed, and the inside concealed. People can make predictions or assumptions of what is kept inside of my castle, but they don’t know me. I’m only perfect.