I’m walking, slowly, almost as though I’m merely strolling in the woods...at least, I think it’s the woods. The air is fresh and the wind lightly carries an aromatic breeze that brings upon many feelings. Feelings of happiness, love, joy, innocence, enthusiasm. There was also this dark, ominous sensation that was present but faintly recognized, but I ignored it. A field of blossoming roses enveloped the ground of the forest while having various rose buds of beautiful, vibrant colors. Each rose color represents the feelings that were released into the air. The red one brought upon a warm, comfort of something somewhat undestinguished(perhaps because I’m only a child and never experienced it), though it reminds me of the gaze my parents gave to one another. The soft, buttery yellow rose gave me the sense of jubilee while thinking about that lovely picnic my family and I had when I was six. The snow white one gave an aura of an almost heavenly feeling, and a familiar loved one, of my dear father, who passed away two years ago. O, how I miss him... As I proceed to the other roses, I notice a light. This “light” of some sort appears to be summoning my inner soul, so I follow it. The closer I get to the source the more forceful it becomes. Now, it seems that the light’s aura is pulling me, which means it must want to tell me something. The color is of an iridescent-type reminding me of a pigment of the deep evening sky or of an imagination. There are vines and leaves and thorns protecting the source, creating a cave of green, a shelter of some sort. I warily approach it and wonder what to do next. As though my unconscious self has taken over, I press my index finger on one of the leaves, and the interlaced vines start to open up, unraveling this precious jewel of secrecy. I start tingling with a thought of wonder and excitement to know what this cocoon had concealed. Suddenly, a light and delicate petal flies towards me. Correction: a light and delicate BLUE petal flies towards me. I catch the petal between fingers and stare at it with awe. Then, I slowly lift my head up to see where this precious petal had come from. My eyes widened so much, I don’t think I've ever opened them that large in my entire life. A dazzling, blue rose was in my presence. It’s fragrance so powerful, and it’s appearances was so enchanting. It’s aura gave off waves of magic, of wonder, of splendor and of majesty. But also of wish-fulfillment and of answers. This may be the answers to my prayers. It can solve my family’s problem and of our poor condition. It may even save mother’s grief-stricken heart and aid towards her health. This magical beauty of the impossible is the key to prosperity and of freedom from despair. At last!

My eyes fly open in less than a heartbeat. It appears that night is still awake with the stars while the sun is in her peaceful slumber. The starry sky is such a lovely sapphire blue… Blue! The blue rose! The fragrance still lingers faintly. But how? It was only a dream, although it seemed so real. I realized that the senses from my fingers had the soft, delicate feeling of the petal. While the dream was returning, a loud, rasping cough came from my mother’s bedroom. She’s becoming more ill and weak since the day my father had… went away. She complains of the sharp pains in her bones and the soreness of her fragile hands. Her condition had worsened so much, that the head of the fabric and tailoring shop and told her to find somewhere else to work or to not even work at all. In other words, they basically kicked her out since she would take longer breaks while working. Now, we don’t have much left, and we can’t afford a doctor to help her. Nowadays, her dear friend Mrs. Strubblebury stays with her at most times to take care of her and cheer my mother up, but it’s not like she can help her with her illness. I've prayed and prayed and no answer had come out, until now. I know that I must find that precious blue rose if I want to help my family. But what if it doesn’t exist? What if I can’t do it? What if the thorny vines represented treacherous obstacles that I might endure on this journey? I sit up and think about it. My head must not have been properly placed, for I think I’m going bonkers. I swiftly, but silently, climb out of bed, put on my casual dress and boots, and pack up my satchel with everything I’ll need. Food: check. Water container: check. Notebook: check. There are, however, a couple more necessary tools and gadgets in order to be completely prepared for this unpredictable endeavor.
I sneak into a private room and slowly approach the cubbard and drawers. I slowly pull out a map, only a few years old. Then, grab his journal. And finally, I open a special box containing a dagger, which had glistened in the moonlight. Along with it, a golden-covered compass with three ruby jewels that surrounded the part lies on top of a velvety cloth. This I hold closely hold to my heart, for this compass was his prize possession.
I quietly grab my cloak and put it over my dress and satchel, becoming one with my dark surroundings. I approach the door and open it, making sure it doesn’t creak or squeak like a lost baby mouse wanting to be found. The moon is shown brightly, its luminescence dancing so gracefully and lightly. My breathing increases. My heartbeat pounds against my chest. A trickle of sweat swims down my cheek, making it warm and sticky. I reach the border of my home and security and turn around, taking one last glance at it. This quaint, little home of mine may appear minute, but it provided safety and it’s where I grew up. I may never see it again, for I begin my quest. A quest in which I may have to overcome my fears and embrace the unsteadiness of the path. I hope I will be able to make it. I hope that when I do find it, I will make a wish that will lift up my mother from this prison of grief and pain. And to make a wish that will make us wealthy beyond anything we've ever dreamed of. This will not be finding the Impossible. This will be about making that “impossible” answer a reality.