Wrote this on my iPod one night when I couldn't sleep a long time ago... This is just kind of my take on the story.
Terabithia. A place where two children, two misfits, could rules the world. Their kingdom nothing more than an old forest, their castle just an abandoned tree house, and their subjects only the dragonflies and the howls of the wind. And yet, they turned it into so much more. It was a fantasyland, a place that only existed in the dreams of children. But these two children had brought it to life. They were the fearless rulers of the land. Nothing crushed them. Or so they thought. But on one fateful morning, Terabithia lost their queen. Had the enchanted rope lost its magic? Or, the forbidden thought, had it ever been magical at all? Of course it had. The imaginations of the two were so strong, so vivid, that they had truly brought the land to life. It had been the Dark Master who killed her, who had cut the rope. Was it not his goal to rid Terabithia of its king and queen? It was too bad that, in an adult's world, no one would believe that. The poor Burke girl, victim of a tragic accident. But no matter how horrible it was, they'd always say to each other at the end of the day, "It was her own fault, swinging on that stupid old rope." And after a while, even the king began to believe it.