Kaeden Keates

Mrs.Flynn

ELA Core 1

12/20/19

The Light That Was Dimmer Than Expected

“Well, I’m back,’ he said.” Then, it was over. A good six months of work came crashing

down, but somehow they still held up, as strong as Minas Tirith itself. There was a violent tug of

war ripping apart my head. The Lord of The Rings had ended for me.

It wasn’t a simple “The End” like how I imagined it, no it was a complex ending, there

was some amount of tragedy with Frodo essentially dying, and Sam just went home to his life.

Funny, looking back, it almost seems that it was an allegory for my emotions. I had a grand

adventure, attaching myself to this epic tale of good and evil. Just to have it end.

The light in the lamp next to me seemed dimmer, the shadows more relevant. That was

probably because I was reading all day, but nevertheless, I still was in awe. I sat there staring at

the last line. ‘Well, I’m back’ That line seemed to narrate my exact thoughts: Well, I’m back

from this secondary world. The tug of war in my head grew into a battle, the blood from my

emotions seeping down my face in the form of tears. For all of the sadness I found myself

soaking in, I was incredibly happy. I liked the ending, no I ​loved ​the ending. It wasn’t a recently

possesed detective screaming “How’s Annie” in a mirror for twenty-five years, it was satisfying.

It showed that the world moves on, even without the ring-bearer. I was at a loss for what

I was supposed to feel. I was at two polar opposites in my mind, building two towers against
each other. The battle grew into a war. I look at the words again. ‘Well I’m back’ I was waiting

for there to be more. Then I realised that I had a movie to watch, then I realised I hated the

movies; they didn’t live up to the books. (Besides Sean Astin) I loved the books, how could I cry

at the ending?

“It’s over,” I muttered under my breath.

That was the closest I came, at that point, to accepting. The tears were back. They

weren’t salty floods of sadness that you might expect, they were more salty raindrops of emotion

that you might find in some modern art museum with a bunch of pretentious fifty and twenty

year olds.

I was on a journey to a castle and at the end of the path I looked back and saw all of my

footprints, thinking of the memories that happened on each group of those indents in the dirt, and

then I looked at the castle and was met with a pit full of gold and gems. Sure it was gold and

gems, but I wanted to go see a castle, not a pit full of gold and gems.

It was a question I never wanted to be answered, what is the end of the Lord of The

Rings, even though I wanted nothing more than for it to be answered. It crept up on me, the

simple fact that things must end, nothing goes on evermore, the light at the end of the tunnel just

out of reach. There was a great hunt for glory, but when we caught the fox it felt as we just

caught a fox.

I won a game of chess after having my king knocked out after a retconned rule that made

it so my enemy’s play was illegal. I was sucker punched in the face then won the lawsuit. I

constructed an even better tower after my previous was knocked over.

The sadness hit first, then the happiness, joy, bliss hit after.
 I took a deep breath, looking a the shadows in the room, watching their stable forms

reflecting the walls onto the hardwood floors. I saw the light, dimmer than it was when I started

reading. I breathed again. Then I laughed through my nose. The breath filling the room. A smile

crept up on my face, creases folding my skin. I laughed again, still smiling. I looked at

everything I read in the past differently. Characters can be more than vessels to add artificial

emotion to a plot driven story, they could be people. (Or hobbits) Plots could mean something

entirely different. I could like plots that weren’t the main story. These were extreme revelations

that changed everything in my head.

If it was a movie the camera would pan out while a triumphant song blares making

everyone watching feel like ​they​ helped.

But, no. I was in my living room where the shadows were solid as night itself, the light

was dimmer than when I started reading. The silence screaming. I muttered two words over the

silence. “It’s over.”