In Case of an Emergency, Where Can You Find Me? (in no particular order) Angel-Clare Linton, April 19, 2024 Locked behind the doors of my light purple bedroom. They say that all great stories start at the beginning. I would sometimes like to think that my greatest story started with a shimmering poem sitting in a wooden chair at the back of my mind. If you look closely enough, it glows like the backlit colours of The Night Light’s cover after my fingers glide across my black keyboard, entering “butterfly” on my space grey laptop, wanting to find freedom. Hidden behind a stack of books. Once I’m not crying over schoolwork, I most likely have my nose stuck behind books as I’m hidden in a cave deep within the earth’s grounds. Or maybe my nose is behind a staircase worth of books while I sit on the dark blue couch in my living room. Out in the city, pretending that this light pink cloud is floating behind me, wanting to lift me up to the clouds. The sun floats around the light blue skies.A black cat is running around in the parking lot.Cars dance on the road.People drag themselves on the sidewalk.It sounds like there’s a waterfall in the distance.The winter air wraps around me—it wants to whisk me away. Home. They say that home is where the heart is, but the heart is deceitful, and how can you trust something such as that? Related Multimedia