Lucy walked closer to the mysterious ancient wardrobe, which was ordering her to open its old fragile door. Not saying a word, Lucy walked around cautiously. All she could see was a dead blue bottle, and even though the broken forgotten window was open, it was quite hard to breathe and very, very dusty. Slowly and carefully, she opened the door of the strange, dark, spooky wardrobe, but it refused so Lucy has persuaded to let her open its door. Then two very old mothballs fell out. Hushed and soft as a mouse she’s slowly brushed the tepid soft coats aside as they hugged back, but as she did that, she saw light ahead of her, so she stepped into Narnia.

After taking her first step into the unknown, Lucy stared with great amazement, wonder and curiosity. She could feel the breeze dancing around her ankles. Lucy could also feel the flimsy white snow falling gracefully on her. It was white like Santa’s beard.

She couldn’t work out what it was there for. There were still coats ahead of her. Not believing her eyes, Lucy found she was in an eternal, wondrous woods that she would probably never come to the end of.  All around her, the skeletal, angular trees, guarded viciously and waited for creatures to pass.

Continuously the wind howled, blowing the pearl white snow faster and faster to Lucy’s face as the trees stretched out to block the balls of white. The glistening moon was like a torch watching as the trees resisted the racing, pushing snow getting any further. The darkness of the pitch-black shadows spread across Narnia stood before her. Unexpectedly, as Lucy walked further, she saw a tall lamp post. The lamppost was a soldier in Narnia. It was like a dream, or a dream of a dream.