The bricks of gold gleamed in the bright noonday sun, sparkling and brand new. I gazed at the golden road from the dirt path that I was standing on. The golden road was the subject of many myths and tales, the most famous of all being The Wizard of Oz. They speculated on where it might lead, not actually knowing for sure. Every scout that they sent to traverse it disappeared and were never seen again. Some people were of the opinion that whatever was at the end was a heaven-like place, the travelers too content there to want to come back. I disagreed with them. I thought that there was something horrible and evil at the end. I shuddered but pressed on. I was determined to get my brother back. I had no choice. Still, I hesitated where the two roads collided, my foot stubbornly refusing to take the first step. I had to physically pick it up and place it on the first brick.