The Colosseum has always intrigued me. The idea of a two thousand year old ruin still standing astounded me. In October 2013, my parents, my sister, and I went to Rome. After an eight hour flight and a three day cruise, we arrived.
At the stadium, I climbed the stairs to the second story and looked out at the city. Rome was busier than I expected. The streets were filled with cars honking and brakes screeching as they try to maneuver their way through the city built on seven hills. I expected there to be nothing but ruins (like in Pompeii), but it was a bustling, modern city built around the decaying ruins of the Colosseum. The old dusty air mixed with the scent of gasoline did not stink, but made for an interesting, new smell.
The structure was four stories tall at the time, but thousands of years later, only half has all four levels. It was a very faded white, laced with dirt and soot from the many years it has endured. It was truly beautiful.
The second I touched the rough stone walls of the ancient Colosseum, I could feel the weight of what had happened there: Christians being persecuted and gladiators fighting to the death. It almost made me sick. I saw the catacombs that held lions, other animals, slaves, or prisoners. The noises and smells of those ancient times were beyond my wildest dreams.
But yet, with my imagination, I could see how magnificent the structure would've been during the time of the Roman Empire. History was definitely there.
I wish I could remember more, but these are the memories of a twelve year old girl- a twelve year old who loved history and had a big imagination.
(assignment for Lesson #1 of Polliwog Writing Lessons)
If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!