I watched in horror as hundreds of four-year-olds, filed out of the dark abyss, sobbing, with terrified looks plastered on their young faces. After fighting my parents for an hour, I reached above my head and opened the great doors. I took my first step inside the darkness, holding my mother's legs. I felt my eyes swell twice their size. There I was staring face to face with a tribe of lions. One lion transformed in size with every step I took, rambling songs played in the background. “Hakuna Matata,” a small rodent said to his audience, my parents laughed and shook my arms in the air. My eyes grew bigger. I quickly drew my arms into my pockets, grabbing the hood of my sweatshirt, covering my head. Suddenly a ferocious lion came and attacked the others. Lightning stuck a branch behind them and flames engulfed the two fighting lions. I saw the flames as my cue to make my escape. I did everything: I pointed, screamed, and even did the potty pose. I looked forward, a bright rectangle revealed an exit. I made my way through the other helpless families, leaving my own behind I ran towards the door.
The last thing I remember vividly is a mouse in a suit and a dog like creature grabbing me. The rest is a blur, I remember a woman with a tired voice taking me away. I also remember eating ice cream shortly after, contemplating my revenge against the giant animals.
250 words
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