A long walk to the water - descriptive essay

English LiteratureEssay

I am walking. "Walk" was my only thought for days. The further I am away from a rock, plant, or hole I had chosen in the morning, the more determined I was to walk, faster and further, until it disappears.

I always knew the desert was a special place. The place in which extraordinary adventures occur and which beauty is undeniable. At least, that was what I was taught at school. But the desert is horrible. Even the word "desert" sounds dreadful to me after I have turned it hundreds of thousands of times, over and over in my head, until it has become an interminable loop.

Desert is nothing. A dead land which contains nothing. Nothing. I'll always associate that word with the desert after that.

It's been three days that we have been walking in it and still, it's been a hundred years to me. My body aches. All my muscles are crying out for water and I can't afford any. I sweat a lot too. But my sweat evaporates the second it appears. My flask always seems empty even though it's almost full. Every time I open it and take a precious sip of water, my throat, muscles, and every single part of me cries out for more. More. Here "more" increases every day until it becomes "less".

I pee blood. It hurts, but Uncle says I'll be fine even though he looks worried. Everyone here is dehydrated, but everyone acts strong. So I must be strong. I mean, I suppose we have no choice.

I think I might be blind, if I only survive the desert. The sun has never seemed so strong to me. Nothing could be as bright and hot as the sun. However, this is one of the most beautiful problems I have.

In here, the sun is red. Maybe orange. I can't really define its colour or my eyes would burn. All I can tell is that it keeps reminding me of my mother's orange scarf. Every time I try to look at the powerful sun, a new strength pulls me forward as if some part of me hopes she will be there. After the desert. Waiting for me, arms open. I'll tell her how I missed her and how much I love her. Therefore, I try not to think too often about it because the other part of me is afraid. Deadly afraid. She might not be there, or worse, dead. I struggle every time this thought occurs to me, and keep walking.

I really enjoyed the sun before, but now it's different. All I ask for is for it to leave its place to the moon, and its soft wind.

My feet are burning. But I don't feel them anymore. The pain is so intense, it's consuming them. The Sun's fault. The sand is really hot; it's hardly possible to heat it more. I wish I had shoes, but actually this is the least of my problems.

I know I'm not supposed to think this way, but I keep wondering how a such dreadly place could be as gorgeous as it is. The sand beneath my feet is burning and flying around me beneath every step I make. At every step I make, I'm stunned, amazed. The sand flying around me glitters and the sun is the one who makes them shine so brightly. Gold and bronze fill my view. All this divine beauty is really unexpected.

Furthermore, the desert is so big, I think even "gigantic" can't describe it. I feel so small. When I look North, South, East and West, the background of "the scene" we are playing in is similar, every single part of it. Similar. Sometimes I even come to think that we are all going to die in here and turn in loops forever, since I can't find any differences between here and there.

"There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater.

But sometimes it doesn't.

Sometimes it is nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain, and walking every day, the slow walk towards a better life.

That is the sort of bravery I must have now."(1)

And I know I can make it. I'm going to make it. I am going to get out of here and I hope, never come back. I promise.

I'll be brave.

(1) This is a quote from Allegiant, a book written by Veronica Roth. I chose this quote from Allegiant because it was a really special book to me. It was a strong and powerful feeling which was exactly fitting with how I felt as I wrote this essay.