They always told me I was a fool, to believe in such things as magic and other worlds. They told me I was immature and childish to have such an imagination. But perhaps they are the foolish ones, for not believing.

I had always been living in a dream world, refusing to see the real world around me. And when I did, I was scared and felt so alone and small. I didn't want to be out there. I didn't want to get lost.

Oh, how many times I begged Aslan to take me away, to save me from this world. The hours I spent, dreaming of Him appearing to bring me to His land to be healed, to be cured. But he never came, and I was left to drown in my own misery.

Is this how life is meant to be spent? Pushing to the back of your closet, only to meet a cold, solid, white wall? Putting on rings and jumping into puddles? Planting an apple core in your backyard, hoping it will sway when there is no wind in this world?

I had always hoped there was something better out there, somewhere that I was meant to be. Another world, another land, full of magic and joy.

But no. I have searched, I have wished and dreamed, and no world has pulled me in.

I can't go on not knowing whether there are other worlds. This can't be all there is. Narnia exists. It just has to exist.

Oh, yes, I know what you're thinking. It's what everyone thinks. I'm foolish, I have too much imagination, I need to come back to the real world.

The real world. Is this real? Is anything real? Perhaps not; maybe we're all just small pawns in a game. We really don't matter; nothing matters. Just getting to the Finish (otherwise known as Death) and winning the game. But what kind of game is this? Shortcuts to the Finish that only some take, Wild Cards that bring good things as often as bad things. Oh, the obstacles you come across and must jump over, or go around. Is life not merely a board game?

I can't seem to get away from the game. How I yearn to jump off the board into what's outside this cruel world. Perhaps I'm making it seem worse than it is, but isn't it true?

Is it wrong to think these things? Is it wrong to wish for something more and something better? Is it a sin to wish for understanding and happiness? Is it a great folly to dream of other things?

Yes, I want to get away from here. More than you can understand. But I shall never get far. I've tried—Oh, how I've tried!—but I've never gotten anywhere. And what are the chances that I will?

How foolish I am.

Sitting here, staring at the falling snow, I wonder when Aslan will come and chase the cold winter away to bring us into spring. The hope of the sun and the freshness of the breeze. New life coming from the trees and ground. Animals being born and coming awake again.

Awake, Narnia. Come, come and help me in my times of need. Oh Aslan, where are you when I need you most? Have you lost sight of me in this world? Please don't forget me—don't leave me alone here to suffer and wither away. Before I fall beneath this weight, come and rescue me. Please, Aslan, before it's too late…